LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



(SMITHSONIAN DEPOSIT.) 

Chap. TSl^l^ 
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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




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"DOLCE FAR NIEXTE, 



THE COMPOSITIONS 



OF 



MY SCHOOL DAYS 



BY 

J. W. HE 



ENRY 



"Ce n'est que le premier pas qui eoute: 




WASHINGTON, D. C. 

RUFUS H. DARBY, PRINTER AND PUBLISHER. 

1881. 






)'^ 





CONTENTS. 

Introduction 5 

To THE Reader 10 

Dedication 12 



PART FIRST— PROSE. 

A Reformation JSTeedecI among the Young Men of the 
South : 

Letter Ko. 1 15 

Letter Ko. 2 ........ . 16 

Letter No. 3 19 

Letter No. 4 21 

Letter No. 5 24 

The Voyage Across Life's Ocean 29 

Woman 33 

Christmas 39 

Lucius Literarius 45 

The Journey of Life 53 

A Southern Village 60 



PART SECOND— POETRY. 

Tongue— Prologne 65 

Tongue's Address 81 

Epilogue 86 

Death 88 

Life's Allegory 90 

Childish Recollections 95 

Lines to Miss F. A. C 98 

Rock of Ages 103 



Hope, Happiness, Home, and Heaven— Hope . . . 105 

Happiness . 106 
Home . . .107 

Heaven . . 109 

A Farewell llo 

For A' That 110 

Lines on the Death of a Little Brother (1) . . . .112 

Lines on the Death of a Little Brother (2) . . . 113 
A Tribute to " Uncle Sammie " Jordan . . . .113 

Life's Close 114 

When a Barefoot Laddie I Wandered 115 

Poetry 116 

The Southern Siren 118 

To a Friend at Parting 119 

Lines to a Young Lady, on her Birthday . . . .120 

Written on a fly-leaf of " Burns' Poems." . . • 120 

Written on a blank leaf of "Pope's Poems." . . . 121 

Written on a blank leaf of "Coleridge's Poems." . . 122 

Acrostics 123 

Written in my Autograph Album 125 

Written in a Young Lady's Album 126 

Youth 126 

The Pieason Why 127 

Overcome Evil with Good 130 

Mercy's Plea for Man 130 

On the blank leaf in a book 131 

To a Young Lady 131 

Ego Amo Te 131 

Love Unreturned 132 

First Love 133 

Thoughts of the Heart 134 

The Last Farewell 136 

Notes and Appendix 1 39 



INTEODUCTIOK. 



" To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell, 

To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, 
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, 

And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been; 
To climb the trackless mountain all unseen. 

With the wild flock that never needs a fold; 
Alone o'er steej)s and foaming falls to lean; 

This is not solitude— 'tis but to hold 
Converse with nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled." 

— Lord Byron. 

Kind Reader : — We invite 3-ou to a feast ; not to a 
richly furnished festal board, wliere kings and princes, 
dressed in robes of royal purple, are wont to satisfy 
the cravings of the animal man ; but we invite you to 
a feast where you may enjoy yourself mentally — a 
feast for the mind, in wiiich it can taste the pleasures 
of the imagination, the joys of hope, and the delights of 
memory. The mind needp food as well as the body. If 
we wisii the body to be healthy, we feed it upon good, 
wholesome, nutritious food. So it is with the mind; let 
it feed upon good literature, and its possessor becomes 
strong mentally. 

However, nmch is now written, both in prose and 
verse, which is of such a nature as to engender a sickly 
and feeble disposition of the mind. We refer to the 
many trashy, light and worthless novels which are 
read so extensively by the young people of the present 
generation, and w^^hich are so demoralizing in their ten- 
dency. Some great mind has brought to light the fact 



that " The pen is luightier than the sword," and how 
much truth is couched in this sentence! Warriors 
have scaled high the cohimn of fame, and with their 
swords have carved their names as mihtary heroes upon 
its pinnacle, but while the fame of Cjrus, Darius, Alex- 
ander, CiTesar, Charlemagne, Frederic, Bonaparte, and 
Grant as soldiers shall grow dimmer and dimmer with 
each succeeding generation, and their names shall at 
last ]je lost in the great sea of the past, the names of 
Moses, David, Solomon, Paul, \nrgil, Horace, Cicero, 
Milton, Pope, Macaulay, Byron, Irving, Bryant, Tenny- 
son, Longfellow, and Whittier will still, by the produc- 
tions of their pens, charm and electrify a grateful peo- 
ple so long as the sun continues to shine upon this ter- 
restrial globe. Their works are commensurate with time 
itself. 

Good books are always in demand; those that elevate 
the moral and intellectual man above the low and 
trashy things of life, and educate him in the real duties 
of true and noble manhood, transtixing in his heart the 
bright and shining principles of love, truth, justice, 
mercy, and all those quahties that shine so brightly and 
resplendently in the truly good and great. Disseminate 
good, sound literature and it will make an impression 
upon all hearts within its reach, and its influence will 
be such as to make good, true, n()l)le-minded citizens of 
many who otherwise would have been law-breakers. 

In this day, when lawlessness is such an active factor 
in our country, demoralizing the interests both of church 
and state, we need not engage in the circulation of 
novels and such like literature, thinking that they 
will aid in suppressing the many crimes daily brought 
to our notice. This kind of reading, no doubt, has had 
much to do with the state of aftViirs, It hegets in its 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

devotees a vitiated taste. A bitter fonntaiu cannot 
send forth sweet waters. Then we should drink deeply 
of the fountain of pure literature. 

" Of makiui!: many books there is no end ;" they were up 
to all such things in Solomon's day or certainly he 
would not have said this; and as publishing facilities 
are so much in advance of those times we do not won- 
der at the great number of l)ooks which are now sent 
out to the reading public. 

However, we make no apology for our young friend 
in this, his tirst etfort. We are satisiied that his inten- 
tion is to please as well as to instruct. Wise men of 
all ages, acting upon the principle of inculcating a fond- 
ness for those things and persons which are good, true 
and bcautifuf, have ever impressed those principles upon 
the hearts and minds of their disciples. The artist knows 
that his painting will be inspected by many lovers of 
drawing, and he spares no pains to make his picture a 
grand success. His aim is to give a fair and beautiful 
representation of what he is painting, that he might 
please his customers. The historian tells of the mighty 
deeds of brave and heroic men in the grandest and most 
entertaining style; he has his patrons to please, and if 
success does not crow^n his etforts, the great ol)ject in 
view will not be accomplished. The poet sings his fer- 
vent lays in the most beautiful and pathetic strains, there- 
by touching the chords of the hearts of his enraptured 
listeners, thus producing a pleasurable emotion in their 
hearts. 

Our author, in die following pages, has endeavored to 
please and instruct those who listen to his verse, and to 
arouse in their hearts a love for the things that are pure 
and holy. He is young, it is true — scarcely nineteen — 
but for this reason we think that his work deserves the 



INTRODUCTION. 



more credit. Lord Byron issued "Hours of Idleness " 
at nineteen; Mrs. Ilemans' first coUeotion appeared in 
her fifteenth year; Thomas Campbell's "Pleasures of 
Hope," his greatest production, appeared in his twenty- 
second year; then why should not our young friend 
give to "the world his first etiibrt ? 

We might speak of the beauty of the poems written 
on the death of his two little brothers. We might say 
something of the joys of " Hope, Happiness, Home and 
Heaven." Wo could mention the beauties in the "Lines 
to Miss F. A. C. on Her Birthday." There is a sort of 
inexpressible pleasure in copying the following from it: 

."The sweetest and the coolest draught 
That mortal man has ever quaffed, 
Within the bubbling spring was fonlid 
In forest deep, where dotli resound, 
From vale to vale, and peak to peak, 
The panther's scream and eagle's shriek. " 

And then how true is the following from tlie same 
piece: 

"The wheels of time so swiftly fly ! 

They've rolled away another year ! 
And if we'll think, w'e'll breathe a sigh 

And o'er the past we'll shed a tear, 
Because of things we"ve left undone 
In moments now forever gone." 

We could speak of the " Childish Recollections " with 
the greatest fondness, realizing how sweet it is to live 
over in memory the past life of joy and happiness, also 
how sad it is to know that it is impossible to live youth 
over. 

We could call attention to the fairly-represented part 
played by "Tongue" in his drunken stupor and flight 
from the inhabitants of Tartarus, and then sympathize 



INTRODUCTION. 9 

witli him as he reforms and turns temperance lecturer, 
wishing him abundant success in his new vocation. 

We ask you to notice the prose essays and speeches, 
which are teeming with true and noble sentiments, 
worthy of the philosopher or the statesman ; and espe- 
cially is this true in regard to the " Letters to the Young 
Men of the South," in which he so earnestly pleads for 
a reformation among this class. We particularly com- 
mend this part of the work to the ,young men. But 
these things we must leave to the reader, assuring him 
that he will be fully compensated by a careful perusal. 
This is the feast, kind reader, to which w^e i:ivite you. 
iSTot such as we might expect from Shakespeare, Mil- 
ton, Byron, Bryant, Tennyson, Longfellow, or any 
others of the great American and l^ritish poets, whose 
writings are so popular at the present day. His title- 
page will show" you that these are the compositions of 
his school-days, and, such being the case, w^e ask 3'ou,in 
the generosity of your hearts, to pass by, without a great 
degree of censure, whatever imperfections you may 
observe. We believe that the following pages contain 
thoughts w^orthy of your consideration, and by which 
you ma}' l)e intluenced for good. So read them. 

It was Southey who wrote — 

'^ Go, little book, from this, my solitude; 
I cast thee on the waters— go thy ways! 
And if, as I believe, thy vein be good. 
The world will find thee after many days.'' 

R. H. BONIIAM. 

Midway, Texas, 188L 

(See Note 1 ) 



TO THE READER. 

Sufficient has been written by Professor Bonham, in 
his ''Introduction," for the preface of a much larger and 
much more significant vohmie than the present one; but 
it would seem that something had been left undone 
were we to pass on and not acquaint the reader with 
some of the circumstances which have led us to pub- 
lish this little book. It was not from any false pricle or 
belief that our school compositions were better than any 
other boy's; but many of our schoohxiates, and not a 
few of our young friends, have expressed a desire to 
obtain a copy of our early attempts at writing, so it is for 
their pleasure more than anthingelse that tliis little vol- 
ume is published. In a private letter from John G. 
Whittier w^e are advised not to publish all that we write, 
and we have taken this advice in publishing this book; 
only our l)est efforts up to the jiresent time are herein 
contained. As this httle book is not intended for the 
" million," it will be well to state that we do not expect 
it to be criticised. If the critics do make a feast of it, 
although we have not the genius of a Pope to respond 
with a " Dunciad," and are not gifted like Byron to 
write an '^ English Bards," and " Scotch Keviewers " in 
reply, perhaps we shall not die as ingloriously as a Keats, 
Byron says of him : 

" 'Tis strange the mind, that very fiery particle, 
Should let itself be snuff'd out by an article." 

It is very far from our purpose to give any just rea- 
sons why critics should not pass judgment on us. The 



TO THE KEADEK. 11 



best grounds that we have for holding critics at bay 
are couched in the followir g unconnected scraps from 
Byron : 

" 1, too, can sciawl: and once npon a time 
I poured along' the town a flood of rhyme, 
A schoolboy freak, nn^Yorthy ])jaise or blame. 
I i)rinted — older children do the same; 
"Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print— 
A book's a book, although there's nothing in't." 

* * * * * * 
" A man must serve his time at every trade. 

Save censure — critics are already made." ' 

* * -;:- * X * 

" Fear not to lie. 'twill seem a lucky hit; 

Shrink not from blasphemy, 'twill pass for wit; 
Care not for feeling, pass your proper jest. 
And stand, a critic, hated, yet caressed.'' 



The most of these essays were written before the idea 
of publisljing them in book form was ever conceived. 
They cannot, therefoi'C, have that refined linish as if 
written with an eye to pubhcation. 

Like the noble bard, " I am sensible that the partial 
and frequently injudicious admiration of a social circle 
is not the criterion by which poetical genius is to be 
estimated." Yet, to "do greatly," we must "dare 
greatly," and I have hazarded my reputation and feel- 
ings in pubUshing this volume. " I have passed the 
Rubicon," and must stand or fall by the " cast of the 
die." In the latter event, I shall submit without a 
murihur; for, though not without solicitude for the fate 
of these etfusions, my expectations are by no means 
sanguine. But, " What's writ is writ. Would it were 
worthier." 

The Author. 



DEDICATION. 



" Dear, near, and true — no truer Time himself 
Can prove you, tho' he make you evermore 
Dearer and nearer, as the rapid of life 
81ioots to the fall — take this, and pray that he 
Who wrote it, honoring your sweet faith in him. 
May trust himself ; and spite of praise and scorn, 
As one who feels the immeasurable world. 
Attain the wise indifference of the wise.'' 

— Alfred Ten n yson . 

To the teachers and students of the Strata Ahibama 
High School, for every session from 1877 to 1881, as a 
shght token of the highest regard for their friendship, 
and a fit memento of tlie many happy days that we have 
spent together, this Uttle volume is most respectfully 
and affectionately dedicated by the author, who here 
most cheerfully acknowdedges his great indebtedness to 
the Strata School for an ardent and early implanted 
love of good literature in his young mind. 

May the teachers live long to educate many of the 
noble sons and daughters of the South is the hope and 
prayer of their obliged and affectionate pupil, 

J. W. Henry. 
Bullock, Ala., Januarij 1, 1881. 



A KEFORMATION NEEDED AMONG THE YOUNG MEN 
OF THE SOUTH. 



A SERIES OF LETTERS WRITTEN TO THE " YOUNO MEN OF 
THE SOUTH," IN THE GREENVILLE (ALA.) ADVOCATE DUR- 
ING THE SUMMER OF 1879, OVER THE NOM DE PLU^NfE OF 
"TIRO." 

Letter No. 1. (See Note 2d.) 

Young Gentlemen: There has never vet been a time 
in American history tliat a rcfor/natlon was not needed 
among lier young men; tor they, as a class, are more 
prone to go astray from the laws of sobriety, chastity, 
and virtue than any others. 

"We have now^ reached a period when it is of greater 
necessity than evei- l)etbre for the youug men to reform. 
They are now, as a general rule, more reckless, dissipated 
and corrupt than in the times of our forefathers. Bad 
men were fewer then, and,consequently, the many heinous 
crimes of which we read in almost every newspaper in 
the land were less frequent and more appalling than at 
the present day. The bad men of the present time are 
not only worse, but more in number than those of long 
ago. The good men of old were more and better than 
at the present, for there are now very few really good 
men. Each one seems to be trying to overrun and de- 
fraud his neighbor who chances to be engaged in the 
same occupation as that of his own. Competition is 
said to l)e the life of trade; but it is the utter ruin of 
many nowadays. We must now consider the great im- 
portance of a '• reformUion cuiiong the young men of the 



61 LETTERS. 

South.''' They should reform, because the older men 
upon whom we at present rely will soon pass away, and 
the duties which they now so zealously perform will 
tlien devolve upon their posterity. They should reform, 
for l)y them the (lospel of Jesus Christ, in its simplicity 
and its purity, must one day be preached. They should 
reform, for the reins of this mighty government must 
one day be committed into their hands. They should 
reform, for upon tliem rests the future destiny of this 
great Republic. They must reform, if they would not 
have the moral principles of our country abandoned, our 
represeutatives to bow in absolute servility to individual 
dictation, and the " abomination of desolation" to be 
fixed and forever I They must reform, if they would 
not have the powerful structure of our own glory totter 
into ruins, and the nations of the earth mock us in our 
destruction as the kingdoms of darkness did the Baby- 
lonians when they were brought down from their exalted 
position to a level with themselves by the all-powerful 
hand of the great King of Kings. Then, young men, 
let us guard our " Sunny South " against the vice, cor- 
ruption, and intemperance that bring moral desolation. 



Lettek No. 2. 

Young Gentlemen : In order to guard our c untry 
against the many evils and pernicious habits which are 
now so prevalent among our young men, there must, 
first of all, be a great improvement of both mind and 
morals. 

There are too man}- parents who deem mathematics 
as far as simple interest, reading by spelling half the 
words, writing well enough to sign a waive-note or a 




mortgage, and a sufficient knowledge of geography to 
find the country site, abundant education for their chil- 
dren. Their excuse is that they themselves have no 
better, and certainly the children can get along in the 
world \\ith as little'education as their parents had. We 
should not wish to know with how little education one 
can get along in the world, but how much one can get 
by devoting as much time as possible to it. But it goes 
on thus ill regular routine from generation to generation, 
and the standard of education is not being heightened in 
our connnon puldic schools. In fact the majority of 
our country school teachers are not competent to teach 
"Webster's Blueback Spelling Book" correctly. Some 
one will say, then, that " there are no good teachers ac- 
cessible." It is true that there are many good schools in 
our land and country, where the cultivation of both mind 
and heart are taught by fully competent Chrit>tian gen- 
tlemen and ladies, most of whom take as great interest 
in their students as if they were their own sons and 
daughters. 

Why is it, then, that the young men of our country 
do not attend these schools instead of the old-held 
schools that are almost worthless in comparison to themV 
Ah ' it costs a little money to attend a good school. A 
year's close living would have to be gone through to pay 
it, and the young man would be compelled to put a stop 
to his whisky-di'inking, his tobacco-chewing, and his 
cigar-smoking l\)r a year or so. While attending these 
schools, yoQugmen have every influence thrown around 
them that tends to elevate the morals, and enlighten the 
minds of the most dissipated and corrupt youths, and to 
tutor them in the paths of true excellence. Young men 
should not attend tliese schools for such purposes as 
drinking whisky, swearing, and using tobacco. If they 



IS LETTEES. 



go there for the purpose of enlightening their minds, 
they will necessaril}- read man}' good and useful books, 
and especially the great " book of books"— the Bible. 
Out of the Bible the diligent student may dig many rich 
treasures to lay up in his mental store-house for future use- 
fulness. Thought is the adz with A^•hich we dig into the tree 
of knowledge. With these same treasures that have 
been unveiled by hard and patient study, the close Bib- 
lical student may at some future day be able to greatly 
promote the prosperity and happiness of the human 
race. That the morals of tlie rising generation may be 
heightened, the Bible should be introduced as a text- 
book into our day-schools. It should not be read dia- 
jointly, either as a mere book of texts or proverbs, but 
it should be studied as we study the rudiments of an 
English education. We should not keep it in our houses 
simply to give a moral appearance to our libraries, but 
we should make it our daily business to read it, and 
drink deep of its sacred fountain of divine truths. 
The command of Paul to the young Timothy is a self- 
evident proof that all young men should study the 
Bible: " Study to show thyself approved unto God, a 
workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing 
the word of truth." We accept the Bible as the word 
of God. It is the way-bill which points us from earth 
to Heaven ; to guide us through this life that we may 
attain to the life which is eternal. Then why should we 
not study it ? Solomon says: " Receive my instructions, 
and not silver, and knowledge rather than fine gold, 
for wisdom is better than rubies, and all the things that 
may be desired are not to be compared to it." He also 
says that " The fear of the Lord is the beginning of 
wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy is understanding." 



LETTERS. 16 



" To act with common sense according to the moment, 
is the best wisdom I know," says H. Walpole. 

" Better than gold is a peaceful mind, 
That in tlie realm of books can find 
A treasnre surpassing Australian ore. 
And live with the great and good of yore, 
The sage's lore and the poet's lay. 
The voice of empires passed away ; 
The world's great drama will thns unfold. 
And yield a pleasure better than gold." 



Letter Kg. 3. 

YouN(i Gentlemen : Believing you to be young men 
of superior intellectual faculties, t ask you to take a 
view of our present surroundings. Our beautiful and 
fertile country, the '' Sunny South," which has been 
called by an English writer '• The Garden of the World," 
is filled up with healthy and intelligent young men, each 
one of whom is competent to achieve some good for his 
God, for his country, for fellow-men, or for himself. 
But it is lamentably true, that most of them are not 
using in a proper manner the strength of body and 
the activity of mind which God has so abundantly be- 
stowed upon them. It is worth that makes the man, 
and not good looks, fine clothes, plenty of money, new 
buggies, and fine horses. 

" Aim high, 'tis better far to see fond hope 
Crushed and l)leeding, and wear the fetters of 
Cruel disappointment, in struggle 
For greatness, than to sit idly'down, and 
Breathe the air of the valley, while mountains 
Capped with brooding clouds invite your tireless 
Feet to scale their craggy tops, and tread heights 
Unknown, save to Olympian gods." 



But we should ever bear this in mind, that a " high 
aim" is not the only essential thing to complete success in 
all our noble undertakings. There musj; be wilUngness, 
perseverance, energy, skill, and both mental and manual 
labor. " The hour of victory does not always come 
suddenly, but often after a long and patient siege." 
"While we are fighting the l)attles of life we must not 
slacken, lest the enemy gain ground and we be conquered 
on account of our negligent delays. 

"Shun delays, they breed remorse; 
Take thy time, while time is lent thee ■, 
Creeping snails have weakest force; 
Fly tliy fault, lest thou repent thee ; 
Good is best when earnest sought — 
J angering labors come to naught." 

We must now endeavor to look things straight in the 
fac?. Within the last few years the habits of our young 
men, and in fact of all tlie Soutliern people, have un- 
dergone perceptible changes, and we fear, for the worse. 
The face of society all over the country would bear 
marks of unquestionable improvement if there were 
more young men within its bounds, willing to help their 
fellow-men as well as themselves, ^^elf is the all-import- 
ant personage with the masses. Many different schemes 
are devised and carried into execution, to maintain a good 
reputation, while securing a competency upon which to 
subsist without laboring for it. Thus the widow and the 
orphan are often robbed of their last morsel of bread, and 
the ignorantlaborer of his last hard-earned dime, simply for 
the aggrandizement and gratification of self. By thus 
cheating poverty and ignorance, many of our young men, 
and not a few of those whose heads are turning silvery- 
gray with age, sacrifice all their integrity upon Mam- 
mon's altar. 



LETTERS. 21 



Deaf to the cries of poverty and sutiering, and the 
demands of justice and benevolence, they stifle the voice 
of conscience and all of the sensibihties of nature which 
have a tendency toward morality. Their only god is 
earthly gratification and the pampering of depraved 
appetites their only pleasure. Such characters as these 
will enter the doors of her whose abiding place is an 
earthly toll-gate on the great highway leading down to 
the dark confines of hell. And they do this simply to 
gratify a sensual and carnal desire. But while pursuing 
such a course as this, they are receiving their reward; 
for there cannot be a good place assigned to such char- 
acters in the great day of final accounts. They will be 
in the throng upon which the sentence will be pro- 
nounced : " Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting 
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels." 



Letter No. 4. 

Young Gentlemen: One of the greatest vices in 
which our young men indulge is intemperance in its 
worst form — drinking intoxicating liquors. 

There are thousands of them who partake of the 
poisonous contents of the dram-cup against the plead- 
ings and cries of wives, mothers, and sisters. Young 
men, in view of the many great and heinous crimes of 
the mighty tyrant, strong drink, who has so mercilessly 
invaded our peaceful realms; in view of his despotic 
disposition and malignant power; in view of the deadly 
poisons that he so artfully uses to entice the wayward 
and self-willed sons of Adam ; of the great deception 
and counterfeits used in the manufacture of these poi- 
sons, that their malignity may be increased tenfold; of 



22 LETTERS. 



the utter ruin and insanity of many of its unhappy vic- 
tims ; of the miUions of wretched wrecks that stammer, 
stagger, leer, and fall hellward under its influence ; of 
the thousands of ruined,though once loved and respected, 
human beings that yearly fill drunkards' graves ; of the 
millions of poor, ragged,starving children that have been 
left by their drunken fathers and brothers worse than 
orphans; of the miUions of broken-hearted wives,mothers, 
daughters, and sisters who are held down by the awful 
millstone of poverty on the account of drunken hus- 
bands, sons, fathers, and brothers ; of the thousands of 
paupers yearly sent to the public poor-house, and the 
thousands of orphans annually bequeathed to public 
charity ; of the milhons of happy homes made deso- 
late, and the miUions more threatened by this merciless 
foe to humanity ; and, in fact, of seven-eighths of all 
the crimes committed being by the hand of this terrible 
monster, I, as one of their number, call upon the young 
men of the South to reform ! 

In view of the fact that two and a half millions of dol- 
lars are aimually expended by this notorious robber, 
being stolen from the public comfort and wasted in 
wretchedness and crime ; in view of the stronghold that 
he now has upon our people, and his unconquerable am- 
bition for more power, I call upon the young men of the 
South to reform aiid to reform noio, in this the day for abso- 
lute need for immediate action. 

"Arise, for the clay is passing, 

And you He dreaming on ; 
Otliers'have buckled their armor 

And fortli to the fight have gone ; 
A place in the ranlvs awaits you, 

Each one has some part to play ; 
The past and the future are nothing 

In the face of the stern to-day." 



LETTERS. 23 

Young men, in the names of your many weary, 
watching, and w\aiting wives, mothers, sisters, and 
daugliters, whose husbands, sons, brothers, and fathers 
are visitors at the dram-shop ; in the name of all com- 
mon sense and your hope for eternal life in the heavens 
above, and in the name of Almighty God, the great 
creator and preserver of us all, whose all-seeing eye is 
always upon us, whether we be in the dram-shop or the 
sanctuary, and before whose judgment bar we must all 
shortly stand, where our e1:ernal damnation wall be 
fixed and forever if we continue in intemperance; in His 
name, young men. I call upon you to reform. Stand aloof 
from the sin-cursed and hell-borned habit of drinking 
ardent spirits, and proclaim an everlasting war against 
whisky and an eternal death to all spirit'uous liquors. 
Fight with an unflinching determination to succeed, and 
you will certainly ^' come off more than conquerors in 
the end." Uphold and support every restriction, every 
law, and every impediment against the invading tyrant, 
Strong Drink, who is the greatest foe to the souls and 
bodies of mankind known to the human familv. Strike 
a deadly bIow% and he sure you strike at the 'right ob- 
ject and at the right time. 

"Strikes are quite proper, only strike right; 
Strike for some purpose, but not for a tight; 
Strike for your manhood, for honor and fame, 
Strike right and left till you win a good name; 
Strike for your freedom from all that is vile, 
Strike off companions that often beguile: 
Strike with the hammer, tlie sledge and the ax. 
Strike off bad habits with burdensome tax; 
Strike out unaided, depend on no other. 
Strike without gloves and your foolishness smother; 
Strike off the fetters of fashion and pride, 
Strike where 'tis best, but let wisdom decide; 
Strike a good blow while the iron is hot, 
Strike, keep striking till you hit the right spot." 



24 LETTERS. 



While you are striking out " all that is vile " be sure 
to give intemperance a deadly blow. Have the decis- 
iveness to sa}'', when the wine-cup is banded you by 
some of your old companions in revelry and drunken- 
ness : 

"No, comrades, I thank yon, not any for me, 
My last chain is riven, henceforward I'm free." 

And so saying, turn away from the tempting curse, 
never to touch it with burning lips again. In the lan- 
guage of one of the great statesmen of the United States 
to his nephew: " Give up property, give up everything, 
give up life itself rather than presume to do an immoral 
act." Yes, " be a hero in the strife," or draw out en- 
tirely; do not be a backslider or a hypocrite. 



Letter Xo. 5. 

Young Gentlemen : There are some young men in 
this country who believe themselves great, and think 
themselves better than others on account of their lin- 
eage. These should remember that nature furnishes all 
of our truly great, and that genealogy has no more to 
do with making a man greater than the plume in a sol- 
dier's cap has in making the wearer naturally taller. 
The world is full of those narrow-brained people who 
think themselves above their neighbors, because a little 
more of this world's goods have been allotted to them 
than to some others. 

It would be well for the rising generation not to be 
thus proud and putfed up on account of worldly posses- 
sions, but to be nearer on an ecj[uality, so far as society 
is concerned. 



LETTEES. 25 



I will say to the young men o' the South with a smile, 
Who ride in new buggies and dress in fine style, 
"Because you tlourish in worldly affairs, 
Don't be haughty and put on airs, 

With insolent pride of station; 
Don't be proud and turn up your nose. 
To poorer people in plainer clothes. 
But learn this for your mind's repose, 
That wealth is a bubble that comes and goes. 
And that all proud llesh, wherever it grows, 

Is subject to irritation." 

If you are so silly as to count your importance in this 
world by dollars and cents, you will sell yourself in the 
end, and the devil will be the unfortunate purchaser so 
sure as justice is dealt out to you in the heavenly tri- 
bunal. 

If you stake all your moral grandeur, your good char- 
acter as a man, and your chances for heaven on the lit- 
tle paltry pelf that you here possess, you are unworthy 
the good name that your forefathers have left you. We 
are ready to admit that one's first estimate of a man is 
influenced greatly by the clothing he wears. Kings in 
all ages have worn gorgeous apparel; but as we often 
see sepuLhres clothed in spotless white, (the color that 
indicates purity,) which are filled with rottenness and 
ugly bones, so the finest, costliest, and purest-looking 
clothes often envelop the most corrupt men. And, 
like the treasure hidden in the rough and rugged moun- 
tain, so we often find the best and brightest men clothed 
in the roughest and most ruggec' dress. It is said that 
" fine feathers make fine birds," but fine clothes never 
did make an honest or a good man. The man in tat- 
ters and rags may be by far superior to the one wrapped 
up in broadcloth and beaver fur, superior in all those 
faculties and requisites composing just such a companion 
as justice, purity, wisdom, would love to associate with. 



26 LETTEES. 



That we may better understand the vitiated tastes 
that men now have who are running to such excess in 
obtaining dress suited to their tastes and to the tastes 
of others, let us look back to the introduction of dress, 
ponder for a moment the cause of its introduction, and 
compare it in its primeval state with it as it now ap- 
pears. The fig-leaf aprons and the coats of skin were 
the first dresses and styles worn by man. In style and 
material there have been no very valuable additions, 
notwithstanding the many changes and much-boasted 
improvements. Its introduction comes from the same 
source that hard labor, disease, sorrows, sin, and death 
sprang from, and will be commensurate with them. 
They each tell a tale of woe, and are badges of the un- 
faithfulness of our ancestors, Adam and Eve. As the 
striped clothing of the convicts of this State shows that 
the wearer has offended, so, to the thoughtful, our 
clothes indicate that some one has done wrong. It has 
not been long since Di-. Talmage visited many of the 
liquor-dens and hell-holes of Xew York city by night, 
expecting there to find the ragged and ignorant ruffians 
engaged in all kinds of dissipation and revelry; but 
imagine his surprise when he found instead the very 
elite of the city. Those men wdiom he supposed to be 
gentlemen, and some of them claiming to be Christains, 
were reveling in the dead hours of night in the dram- 
cells and assignation houses of iSTew York city. They 
w^ere those very men who dressed in the latest fashions 
of the day, and rented pews in the finest churches. 
They had the outward appearance, but lacked that part 
in the building-up, of a gentleman which keeps him 
from sucli places — the true manliness within. This is a 
principle that always characterizes the true gentleman, 
and causes him to rise high above the low and debasing 



LETTERS. 



things of this earth, and makes him spurn the mean, 
grovelling practices that the ungentlemanly, unprinci- 
pled, whisky-drinking, hard-swearing, night-prowling 
wretches of our towns and cities usually indulge in ancl 
follow. Man, when he was pronounced "good, yea, 
very good," I)y Him who decorated the lilies of the field, 
the dress of which outshines the brightest robes worn 
in any age by man — yea, man's dress was then very 
simple — and before he shall walk in undimmed beauty 
the streets of God's home, or shall be enthroned to judge 
angels, his line dress will have been left behind, with 
all its beauty of earth. 

For those who shall dwell where sorrows, sin, and 
death are strangers shall not be arrayed in broadcloth, 
silk, satin, or latest styles from Paris, but in good deeds. 
" The white robes are the righteousness of the saints !" 

Young men, let us have a general reformation ! Ger- 
many was once liberated by her young men, and the re- 
demption of the " Sunny South " from the great clouds 
of demorahzation and wickedness which now shut out 
the bright prospects of her future skies must be the 
work of our young men. Then, young men, let us ad- 
vance to the forefront of civilization, for into our hands 
must shortly be committed the trust of framing the so- 
ciety of the rising and future generations. Let us gird 
on our full armor of principle^ our battle-axe of right, 
our helmet of education, our sandals of continuance, 
our shield of determination, our sword of resistance, 
against all temptations to do evil. Let us continue to 
carry on a great crusade against ignorance and wicked- 
ness until a complete resolution to reform is wrought 
in ever}^ Southern heart ! We can thus prepare this 
country to become the dwelling-place of a people wor- 
thy to lead the world, not in the latest fashions of the 



28 LETTERS. 



day, but in the highest state of earthly human happi- 
ness ! Fighting this sort of a battle in life is a glory. 
It is a glory which a wise man will covet, which a good 
man Avill .aspire to, which will follow him from the 
changing scenes of this life into the unseen eternity 
which awaits him, and there, in the presence of the col- 
lected universe of angels and just men made perfect, 
in the presence of the multiplied millions who have 
passed from the sandy shores of time, and in the pres- 
ence of Almighty God, place a crown upon his brow, 
" that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for him." 

Then why cannot we have a reformation among the 
young men of the South ? 




THE VOYAGE ACROSS LIFE'S OCEAN. 

AN ESSAY BEAD BEFORE THE STRATA, ALABAMA, HIGH SCHOOL, 
DECEMBER, 1879. 

With sails alike unfurled to the balmy breezes of 
prosperity and the howling winds of adversity, rosy 
youth lets his delicate bark glide gently out on the per- 
ilous bosom of life's tempestuous nuiin, little dreaming 
that there are manj^high and rolling billows to surmount, 
many perilous shoals and treacherous quicksands to en- 
counter, many dark and dismal storms 1o pass through, 
many dangerous and perfidious whirlpools to cross over, 
and many hideous and powerful monsters to battle 
against, while making the great and important journey 
across life's ocean. As he gracefully plies his oars while 
leaving the flowery shores of his childhood, there is not 
a single ripple of anxiety upon the bright blue waves of 
happiness, and not a cloud visible to shut out the beam- 
ing smiles in hope's clear sky. He rows with a vigor 
and an earnestness that seem to tell of prosperity through 
all future life, and a bon voyage across the deep, wide 
sea upon which he has so lately launched his frail little 
boat for the first time. Who could and who would wish 
him anything else but prosperity ? For a time tiis little 
vessel glides smoothly over the still waters of success, 
and his course is lighted up by the luminous rays that 
are. emitted by the brilliant sun of fortune. But at 
length his bright prospects begin to change. Flying 
clouds of unperformed duties and pecuniary obligations 
are continually cutting otf the brilliant rays, and an oc- 
casional squall from the mountains of wickedness dis- 
turbs the quietly sleeping waters. Before he has journeyed 
much farther, these unfavorable onsets become more 
frequent and of greater duration. But, being elated 



30 THE VOYAGE ACROSS LIFE'S OCEAN. 

with the hope that he will soon ride out of the stormy 
portion and again be in the serene waters, for a time he 
boldly resists the dashing: waves that lash the sides of his 
bonny boat. At last, his sinewy arm becomes wearied, 
and he almost faints in the great struggle with the mad 
waters of calamity. He can now see nothing before him 
but blighted hopes, dark clouds, and a stormy sea. Soon 
a huge black mass appears in the distance. Hfe imagines 
that it will be a storm at the very height of its fury 
when he reaches it, so, very much discouraged, he slowly 
travels towards it. When he neais it, his worst fears 
are realized. He is suddenly startled by the loud peals 
of thunder coming from the dark clouds of adversity ; 
his frail bark is almost capsized by the strong gales of 
imprudence ; his eye is dazed by the lucid glare of the 
changeable lightnings of destiny, and the few remaining 
sunbeams of prosperity are quickly cut off by the lower- 
ing clouds of misfortune that rise like huge mountains 
all around him and meet above his head as if determined 
to shut out every ray of friendly light. It is now that 
the storm begins with all its unbounded fury ! 0, how 
he longs for the scenes of his early childhood ! How 
much he desired to be back again on the Howery shores 
of life's bright morning ! His spirit is ready to sink in 
despondency and grief, and it seems that he must soon 
come to an untimely grave in the bottom of life's cold 
and perilous ocean. As the storm rages in wildest com- 
motion, at one moment his little bark's keel is heard to 
scrape the sands, while at the next, being borne on a high 
wave, its mast is seen to kiss the clouds. His senses 
swim, he gives it up, closes his eyes, and awaits the crisis! 
Presently a crash is heard, and he involuntarily opens 
them just in time to see the frail, weather-beaten bark of 
a fellow-traveler sink beneath the " cold, turbid tide." 



THE VOYAGE ACROSS LIFE'S OCEAN. 31 



In wonder and mute astonisbment he looks about him, 
and lo ! the fierceness of the storm has passed, and by 
some aid unknown his boat has drifted beyond the roll- 
ing billows ! With renewed energy he grasps his mo- 
tionless oars, and once more the sun of fortune shines as 
he again sets out, with a propitious breeze playing in his 
sails, to accomplish the unfinished voyage across life's 
ocean. All of the dark clouds, foaming waves, and 
howling winds have disappeared as if by magic, and the 
clear blue waves have again taken the place of the murky 
tide. Hope again sows his swelling seed in the encour- 
aged heart, and a smooth sea and cdear sky are all that 
his eyes can behold. With all his manly strength he 
plies his oars and his little boat skims over the placid 
waves as lightly and swiftly as fairy feet. Soon he comes 
to where the waters rest as calmly as serene old age; 
where there is not a ripple to be seen on the clear blue 
waves. Far in the dim distance ahead he sees something 
which he_ thinks is the goal for which he has been so 
long striving. When he approaches nearer, he discerns 
something deep and dark between him and his long-sought 
treasure. He glides gently up to it, when lo ! hel3ehokls 
an unfathomable and an empty gulf ! 

^' What is thisy he cries in tones of deepest anguish, 
and the answer comes, born back in hollow tones from 
some hidden spot in its dark recesses, '' I am the abyss 
of death !" In despair he then exclaims, " How shall I 
cross it !" Then remembering his CrcTtor, he says with 
greatest joy : 

" O Grod ! Thy love, in its bright plenitude, 
Filled me with an immortal soul, to spring 
Over the abyss of death, and bade it wear 
The garments of eternal da}^ and wing 
Its heavenly tiight beyond this little sphere, 
Even to its source, to Thee, its Author, there !" 



It is thus that he addresses his Maker, after he has 
crossed life's stormy main, and 

" On the last verge of mortal being stands. 

Close to the realms where angels have their home, 
Just on the boundaries of the spirit land, 
N'e'er more life's tempestuous sea to roam." 

He then closes his dim earthly eyes and makes the 
leap, and if his life has been spent in glorifying the Au- 
thor of his being, in doing this, he puts on " the gar- 
ments of eternal day," and his feet soon touch the 
shores of "that land beyond this little sphere." But if 
his past career has been spent in wickedness and crime, 
he sinks into death's dark abyss to meet the devil and 
his angels there. 

If through God's mercy he is allowed to cross the 
gaping gulf, and enter the " realms where angels have 
their liomes," he approaches his Master, and begins to 
adore Him for the many manifold blessings bestowed 
upon him while making The Voyage Across Life's 
Ocean. 

" O ! Thou Eteenat. Onk! Whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motions guide ! 
LTnchanged through time's all-devastating flight! 
Thou Oxly God ! There is no God beside ! 
Being above all beings ! Mighty Oke ! 
Whom none can comprehend, and none explore ; 
Who flllest existence with Tlij^self alone ! 
Embracing all, supporting, ruling o'er ! 
Being whom we call God, and know no more !" 

It is thus that he adores Him. 

"■ And when Ids tongue is eloquent no more, 
His soul will speak in tears of gratitude." 



WOMAN. 

AN ORATION DELIVERED AT THE ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN 
BY THE STRATA; ALABAMA, HIGH SCHOOL, DECEMBER 25, 
1879. 

Ladies and Gentlemen : There has never yet been 
a time in the world's history that woman's influence for 
good was appreciated so much as it is at the present day. 
Nor does the world properly estimate her true value and 
moral power even now. In fact, the good influences 
wielded over mankind by woman cannot be too highly 
estimated. Woman holds ditterent positions in man's 
affections, and therefore her influence is greater in some 
than in others. What word reaches a man's soul and 
causes its chords to vibrate more tenderly than the word 
mother ? In this relation woman has sole control of 
man's early training, by which his future life is framed, 
and upon which are laid the foundations of his hopes 
for future greatness. How appropriate the language of 
the poet, A\^illiam E. Wallace: 

"Mother, liow divine your mission 

Here ui)on our natal sod ! 
Keep, 0, keep the young heart open 

Always to the breath of God ! 
All true trophies of the ages 

Are from mother -love impearled, 
For the hand that rocks the cradle 

Is the har.d that rocks the world."' 

We have quite an interesting story from Lamarline 
which very beautifully illustrates a mother's love: "In 



34 WOMAN. 

some spring freshet, a river widely washed its shores 
and rent away a bough, whereon a bird had built her 
cottage for her summer home, Down the white and 
whirling stream drifted the green branch, with its wick- 
er-cup of unfledged song, and fluttering beside it, as it 
went, the mother bird. Unheeding the roaring river, on 
she went, her cries of agony and fear piercing the pauses 
in the storm. How like the love of an old-fashioned 
mother, who followed the dove she had plucked from 
her heart all over the world. Swept away by passion 
that child might be, it mattered not, though he w^ere 
carrying away with him the fragrance of the shattered 
roof-tree, yet that mother was with him, a Ruth 
through his life and a Rachel at his death." 

Then, truly, if there is any being for whom we should 
feel the deepest affection and protoundest respect, it is 
mother. The next highest position that woman can 
hold in man's affections to that of mother is as his sis- 
ter. She wields an influence over a brother that lifts 
him above the slimy, muddy current of wickedness, 
down whose tide so many of our young men of the pres- 
ent day are drifting, an influence that causes him to 
value a woman for her own true worth, and to respect 
her as she deserves. While Lord Byron was traveling 
among the "Alpine landscapes which create a fund for 
contemplation," he wrote to his sister in the following 
beautiful language: 

" My sister ! my sweet sister ! if a name 

Dearer and purer were, it should be thine ! 
Mountains and seas divide us, but I claim 

jSfo tears, but tenderness to answer mine. 
Go where I will, to me thou art the same— 

A loved regret which I would not resign. 
There yet are two things in my destiny : 

A world to roam through, and a home with thee ! 



WOMAN. 35 



For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart 
I know myself secure, as thou in mine ; 

We were, and are — I am, even as thou art — 
Beings who ne'er each otiier can resign; 

It is the same, together or apart. 
From life's commencement to its slow decline. 

We are entwined— let death come slow or fast, 

The tie which bound the first, endures the last." 

But the position paramount to all others, the one in 
which woman wields her greatest and best influence, and 
the one in which she occupies the highest position in 
man's aflections, is as his wife. There is no gem more 
precious, there is no treasure more worthy to be highly 
prized than a pure, loving, noble-hearted wife. She is na- 
ture's masterpiece. There is nothing that can confer upon 
man's mind the same serene happiness as the knowledge 
that he is loved by a virtuous, gentle, and well-tempered 
w^oman ! In his darkest moments, when adversity, dis- 
appointments, and ingratitude, with corroding cares 
gather thickly around, and even the ghost-like form of 
poverty — pale and bloodless poverty — menaces with her 
bony fingers, the thoughts of her gleam around his soul 
like an angel's smile. She is the sole occupant of the 
mind of the pirsoner in his felon-cell, and in his silent 
midnight musings her image plays around his heart, and 
in his dreams he folds to his bosom the form of the wife 
who loves on still, though the world has turned coldly 
from him. The couch made by the hands of the loved 
one is soft to the weary limbs of the sick sufferer ; and 
the dose administered tenderly- by the same hand loses 
half its bitterness. The pillow^ carefully adjusted by her 
brings repose to the fevered brain, and her sweet words 
of kind encouragement sustain the sinking spirit. Is 
woman then more precious than rubies ? Yea ! far 
more precious than all the paltry pelf of earth. 



r 



36 WOMAN. 



"• Better than gold is a peaceful home, 
Where all the fireside pleasures come; 
The shrine of love, the haven of life. 
Hallowed by mother, sister, or wife! " 

When a man wislies a mate he wants a woman whose 
heart is all his own, and whose honor is as unassaih^ble 
as the twinkling rays that come from the far-oii' stars. 
If he is successfnl in finding this sort of a sharer of the 
trials and felicities of life, his right hand will be her 
defence until tlie}^ part to meet again beyond the eter- 
nal hills. Would that man and woman could both 
learn how^ sweet the Ijliss of which Thomas Moore so 
sweetly sang: 

" There's a bliss beyond all that the minsti'el has told, 

When two that are linked in one heavenly tie. 
With heart never changing, with brow never cold, 

Love on through all ills, and love on till they die! 
One hour of a passion so sacred is worth 

Whole ages of heartless and wandering bliss ; 
And O ! if there be an Elysium on earth, 

It is this ! it is this ! " ' 

Woman ! beautiful, angelic woman ! has been the 
theme of poets from the remotest ages unto the present 
day. Is this deserved ? Man must confess that it is. 
It was a woman who nursed and cherished our blessed 
Savior so that He became a man. It was woman's hands 
that made the seamless garment that was presented to 
Him without " money and without price." It was a wo- 
man who washed his feet with her tears and wiped them 
with the hairs of her head. A woman was one of the first 
who made the good confession, " Thou art the Christ, 
the Son of God, which should come into the world." 
They were women who last forsook Him as He hung 
bleeding and dying on a Roman cross. And they were 



WOMAN. 37 

women who first visited the sepnlchre on the morning 
of His resurrection. It almost Feems that God, in His 
infinite goodness and mercy, commiserating woman's 
first great transgression, had planted the prectous jewels 
of love and gentleness in her bosom, wliose heaven-like 
influences might cast into forgetfulness man's recollec- 
tions of the Fall, by transplanting in his heart another 
Eden, "where perennial flowers forever bloom," and 
crystal waters gush from exhaustless fountains ! " 




CHRISTMAS. 

AN ESSAY READ BEFORE THE STRATA, ALABAMA^ HIGH 
SCHOOL, JANUARY 10, 1880. 

(See Note 4th. ) 

The grand old universal festival of Christmas for the 
year 1879 is now numbered with the unreturning days 
of the past. To-night finds a goodly number of the 
students of the Strata School with essays which they 
have prepared by patiently digging into the rich mines 
of memory and knowledge, describing their pleasures 
and displeasures during the short holidays of Christ- 
mas. The transient observer will please '-pass our im- 
perfections by," upon the plea that we are yet young, 
and as yet not very well tutored. Christmas is the fes- 
tival which the Roman Catholic Church regards as the 
^' Mother of all feasts." It is also canonically regarded 
by the Episcopal and the Lutheran churches. By going 
back to the primeval days of the Christian era, and ex- 
amining the pages of ancient history, we find what has 
been said concerning its antiquity and origin. From 
the list of yearly festivals given by Augustus in the year 
400, it is very evident that it was not observed by the 
primitive Christians. 

Clement, King of Alexandria,'who lived in the third 
century, censured those who even attempted to ascer- 
tain the day of the nativity of Jesus Christ. Neander 
says that the idea of a birthday was entirely unknown 
to the Christians of the first three centuries. When the 
Christmas festival was introduced into the East, in 



CHRISTMAS. 39 



many countries it was connected with the Epiphany, 
and celebrated on the sixth day of January. Maximus, 
of Turin, speaking of the explanations given of the feast 
in the fifth century, said that Christ's nativity, the com- 
ing of the Wise Men from the East, and His baptism by 
John, all occurred on the same day of the month — Jan- 
uary the sixth. Many dates are given as the natal day 
of our Savior, and one of them is perhaps right, but 
there is no certain data by which His birthday can be 
ascertained. All that we have to govern us is conjec- 
ture, and thus guided we call December the twenty-fifth 
the birthday of our Lord. It is very prol^able that 
Christmas takes its origin from the Saturnalia — being 
this festival simply transferred to the Roman Catholic 
Church, with a few changes. " Human in its origin, 
arbitrary in its time, and pagan in its ceremonies, it 
certainly has no claim upon the true Christian. If we 
respect it at all, how should we spet:d it? Certainly 
to the Lord. If we observe it at all, it is because it is 
called the birthday of our Savior, and over-rejoicing 
should be in Him. The good tidings of great joy 
brought by the angel should be our therne, and with 
the multitude of the heavenly host we should praise 
God, saying: "Glory to God in the highest heaven! 
and on earth peace and good will among men ! for to- 
day was born to us in the city of David a Savior, who 
is Lord Messiah ! " 

We will now endeavor to give you a short sketch of 
our doings in the little town of Strata during the Christ- 
mas that has just passed over our heads. Christmas 
morning was spent very pleasantly and profitably by 
the students in reading, speaking, and singing. Twelve 
o'clock soon came on, and we were all invited out to a 
feast which would have graced a king's table ; this was 



40 CHRISTMAS. 



prepared by the good people of Strata. After dinner 
there was a battle. The two armies met on the field 
(or floor) of action under the bonny blue flag of old 
Noah Webster (Webster's Spelling Book.) The com- 
manders on eiiher side were very desirous to have the 
beautifal standard borne away in triumph by his well- 
drilled braves. The fight was opened about two o'clock, 
and continued with unmitigated fury about two hours. 
The noble braves on either side fought with an un- 
flinching determination to gain the day. When the 
least advantage was gained by the hard-hearted follow- 
ers of the Doublin Masculus they would send up the 
most unearthly yells, that would jar the place whereon 
they stood to its very foundations ! This w^as horrify- 
ing to the beautiful and well-equipped army of Her 
Majesty the Queen Femina, and by these foul means 
the rough followers of Masculus at last gained the day. 
(See Note 5th.) 

Both Ions and short words did they spell, 
And filled each cliair with those spelled down; 

They triumplied; but Masculus fell, 
Thus ended his renown. 

This was the unhappy sequel of the most desperate 
struggle that ever occurred within the walls of proud 
Strata. 

Christmas night the school gave an entertainment at 
the academy, which seemed to be duly appreciated by 
all present. As to the deportment of the students I 
will not speak publicly, as '-self-praise is half scandal," 
and I could not do otherwise than praise them. But it 
is no half scandal to sa}' that the girls looked like what 
I would imagine so many angels would appear. The 
day after Christmas passed ofi" very quietly, or at least 



CHRISTMAS. 41 



it did with me. But at night I made np for the lost 
time. At about four o'clock p. m., I went over to the 
wholesale and retail establishment ot Messrs. Mezelle & 
Moore. The junior partner of this firm being a young 
man, and a particular friend to your humble ser\ant, 
proposed that we would go down to Prof. Barnes' and 
try to induce him to let the young folks enjoy a social 
party at his house that night. We went, accompanied 
as far as Prof. Barnes' gate by the Strata band. Our 
noble principal did not turn a deaf ear to our entreaties, 
so before many minutes bad elapsed we were in the 
office of the dry goods estalilishment writing invitations 
to those who lived at a distance. After this was done, 
and each note had been sent to the person addressed^ 
Mr. Willie B. and yours truly went to ask another favor 
of our generous professor. But for a very just reason 
he coufd not grant it and we were sadly disappointed, 
and Mr. Bullion says, "Disappointment sinks the heart 
of man." I do not know about friend WilUe B.'s heart, 
but mine did not have time to sink very low, for it 
really seemed that our whole-souled precept<~r was tax- 
ing his noble mind to think of something that would 
please me. In reply for not o;ranting the favor asked 
of him a few moments before, he very generously gave 
me the privilege of accompanying one of the fair daugh- 
ters of Strata" to the party. ^Vhat could he have 
thought of that would have pleased me better ? The 
night was serene, the silver moon was poiiring forth 
her lustre light wdth all the magnificence in her power; 
the cool exhilarating breezes were pleasantly fanning 
the autunm leaves; the merry stars were gaily twinkling 
in the illimitable bounds of space; the plaintive mur- 
murings of the hilarious frogs, borne on the gentle 
zephyrs from the direction of Dr. Chambers' mill pond. 



were striking the ear like the melodious sounds of an 
^olian harp; and I was coming to the party through 
all this grand panorama of sublimity, beauty and loveli- 
ness, 

•' With this fair maiden, 
With grace o'erhxden, 
Who made tliat road 
One perfect Aiden ! " (See Note 6th.) 

In truth she was — 

" A lovely being, scarcely formed or moulded, 
A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet folded." 

And it was upon myself alone that our formerly im- 
partial preceptor bestowed this unlooked-for, yet much 
wished-for blessing. The party was simply a grand 
success. We played " stealing partners " until, wishing 
to change for something else, '^shoemaker" was proposed 
by some one. I was appointed to that honorable office 
of " Father Shoemaker," of which I was afterwards very 
sorry. This is how it happened: After choosing the 
" Old Lady " we seated ourselves, and I began that im- 
portant, pleasant, and lucrative employment of making 
shoes for the benefit of poverty-stricken, down-trodden, 
weather-beaten, bare-footed humanity. One young gent 
after another came forward and persuaded me to part 
with my '' daughters," until at last a youth came up 
and demanded the prettiest and stateliest daughter that 
I had. I took a good look at him, and after due de- 
liberation concluded that he was entirely too young to 
enter the " holy bonds of matrimony," so to turn him 
oti" without an insult or a downright refusal, I began to 
explain to him that this very "daughter " that he would 
lead to hyman's altar was my cook, and for that reason 



I could not well part from her. But to my great sur- 
prise my " daughter " cried out, " I never did cook for 
you, sir, and I never will ! " Now. this was enough to 
have broken the hearts of some poor old gray-headed 
father "shoemakers." To think that my dearest '^daugh- 
ter" was so blinded by love for a mere " hobelty-boy, 
between a man and a boy," that slie could not take a 
little paternal advice. It was with some difficulty that 
I withstood the shock, and passed on to the next man, 
who was earnestly begging for " some water ? " " a quar- 
ter ? " 0, yes, " a daughter." There are boys in this 
world, and I expect at Strata, who would have taken 
this as a hint, and "a hint to the wise is sufficient." 
There are others who would have to be knocked down 
a time or two before they could be made to understand. 
Perhaps it will be so in this instance. I have often 
heard of boys getting their "walking papers" when they 
endeavored to make contracts with girls to do their 
cooking, but this is the first time that I ever heard of a 
poor fellow getting his "walking papers" before a con- 
tract was even so much as thought of. But this world 
is full of curiosities. The remainder of the night was 
spent in quietude — I mean after the party was over. 

I returned home the next morning, accompanied by ray 
old friend of Butler County memory, George W. Sber- 
ling. To say the least of it, we spent a happy day to- 
gether. We went squirrel hunting, but ere we had gone 
far we could be seen hunting a place where the autumn 
leaves had fallen thickest on the sunny side of a hill. 
Our conversation for an hour or more was very inter- 
esting to ourselves. Many pleasant reminiscences of 
dear old Butler were brought fresh to our memories. 
We talked of conquests that had been made in the past, 
and mapped out fields for future victories; and more 



44 CHRISTMAS- 



than once did we express our regrets that we were 
not enjoying the " happy times away down in Butler " 
this Christmas. We hunted until about three o'clock 
in the afternoon and returned home two squirrels and 
seven pigeons better oft" than when we departed. After 
disposing of a sufiicient quantity of dinner to satisfy 
the present cravings of the animal man, and after tak- 
ing a nice clean shave^ (or at least George did.) being 
moved by the earnest entreaties of Mrs. W. (who could 
make a Philadelphia lawyer ashamed of himself) and 
George, my parents at last consented for me to go over 
and spend the night with George. So " shutHing oft*" 
the clothes that we wore huntino;, and rigging up in our 
Sunday best, we were soon en route for Strata. When 
we arrived at the village we learned to our great pleas- 
ure that there was to be another social party in town 
that night. But this time it was to be at the residence 
of Col. M. L. Kirkpatriek, another member of the Strata 
School Faculty, We thought that we must have some 
candy, so we went to the store first. There we met sev- 
eral other boys, and George being the most moneyed 
man in the crowd, very generously bought a ten-cent 
box of oysters, and treated us to an oyster supper. 
The big-hearted clerk gave us a soda-cracker each, and 
we hid the oysters in a hurr}^ 

After ' 'masticating sufficiently, thinking more w^ould 
be a superfluity," we left the store and its aftable clerk, 
and immediately repaired to the centre of attraction — 
Col. K.'s residence. We found the hall beautifully il- 
luminated, not with the wonderful electric light, but 
with lamps well filled with oil, and the wicks well 
trimmed and burning. A crowcT of nice young people 
soon assembled, and at about seven o'clock the fun began, 
'•' Stealing partners " seemed to be the most attractive 



J_ 



CHRISTMAS. 45 



play, and, by the way, our youngest and smallest pro- 
fessor was on hand, shaking his fat little sides at every 
joke, and making puns for others to laugh at. lie 
seemed to enjoy "stealing partners" very much; hut 
with him we might change it to " stealing partner," as 
he had a peculiar taste that caused him to choose the 
same partner as often as he deemed it consistent with 
our school etiquette. Of coui^o he would sometimes 
change and choose a different partner for a few minutes 
at a time, but in a short while he would be seen gallant- 
ing his same choice partner to his beautiful little cottage 
house in the corner. After " stealing partners " for 
some time, a sweet peppermint scent arose, and looking 
about to ascertain from whence it came, was greeted 
by the winning smiles of several girls eating candy. 
Then I thought of the little poem which runs thus : 

" How dear to memorj'- were those hours, 
Wlien every pathway led to flowers ; 
When sticks ot peppermint possessed 
A sceptre's power to sway the breast ; 
And heaven was ronnd us, while we fed 
On rich ambrosial ginger-bread." 

The party passed off pleasantly, and at ten o'clock 
Col. Kirk in a loud voice invited us to 'Shuttle,'" and we 
hustled away from there forthwith. As I said, I went 
home with George S., and the next morning dawned 
and found all of the- boys at Frof. Jordan's boarding- 
house, still shrouded in the arms of gentle Somnus. In 
fact, the powerful old king of day arose from behind 
the oriental hills, and traveled about one twenty-fourth 
of his daily journey from east to west before they hail 
all shaken otf the dro\\zy lethargy and prepared their 
toilets for the first Sunday after Christmas. Imme- 
diately after breakfast, I started for home, as I had prom- 



ised to come back home before going to Sunday school. 
I did not stay very long, however, before I had to start 
back ; but it was not a tiresome walk l)ack, as I was in 
company with Aunt Polly Barnes, and any^one who can- 
not pass away the time pleasantly and profitably while 
in her company should always go alone. 

When we got to Sunday school, I was informed that 
my heart had been left at Col. Kirkpatrick's the night 
before, and that even then it was up there lying around 
on the floor somewhere ; but Mrs. Barnes (our presi- 
dent's mother, I shall never forget her kindnc ss on this 
occasion) soon came to my rescue. She informed me 
that some one had taken the forsaken heart and had left 
another in its stead more beautiful and more tender. 
We all returned to our respective places of abode after 
Sunday school, and ere darkness had spread her black 
wings over the earth, some of us were engaged in pre- 
paring for the future by studying the lessons for the suc- 
ceeding day. The next morning we awoke at five 
o'clock to resume our studies and hark ! the deep-toned 
bell was peeling; it was the knell of the departed Christ- 
mas. May the nice young people of this school live 
long to enjoy many, many happy Christmas parties. 



LUDUS LITERARIUS ; 

OB, 

A SIX MONTHS' SESSION IN A BOAEDING-SCHOOL 
AWAY DOWN IN "OLD SOUTHERN DIXIE." 



THE LAST ESSAY READ BEFORE THE STRATA, ALABAMA, HIGH 
SCHOOL DURING THE SESSION OF 1879-'80. — READ APRIL 
16, 1880. 

Far down in the beautiful •' SuDuy South," not a great 
number of miles from the famous " land where the 
orange blooms," in one of tliose semi-secluded yet beau- 
tiful and pleasant little inland villages — free from the 
noise and confusion of railroads, rivers, and wharves, 
the vice and fashion of the populous citj-, and the con- 
taminating influences of the outside world — on one of 
those peculiarly pleasant mornings during the first 
week of November, more than two scores of intelligent 
boys and girls, with happy, smiling faces, could have 
been seen marching to the village academy. Ready, 
willing, and anxious were they to enter zealously upon 
the ardent duties of pupils, under the guidance and care 
of amply competent instructors, one of whom can boast 
of more than twenty years' experience as an educator 
of Southern young people. As they were gaily tripping 
along, each one carrying a full share of school-books 
of various kinds, besides their merry laughter, the 
wagoner's whip was continually breaking the peaceful 



48 LUDUS LITERAIilUS. 



silence as he was threaten! n2;Iy popphig it at the obsti- 
nate and partly deaf team of old ''King Cotton," and 
the little birds were singing a sweet requiem to the de- 
parting harvcstiiig season, while giving at the same 
time a ratlicr cold reception to the comparatively mild 
approach of our Southern winter. The deep-pealing 
sounds of the same old bell, which had so often aroused 
the pupils from their sweet morning slumbers during 
the previous session, and which had been hanging lazily 
in the belfry for six months, with little else to do than 
to call the good people of the village and surrounding 
neighboihood to church on Sundaj mornings, now made 
the woods ring with its clear and f;imili;ii' echoes. A 
frolicsome little squirrel was gaily frisking about on the 
boughs of a fruit-laden hickory, supplying himself with 
a surtieieut quantit}" of its bountiful yield to satisfy his 
present longings, when the melodious sounds of the old 
bell's voice were conveyed to his ever-listening ears; at 
this he scampered otf to his secret hiding-place in the 
hollow trunk of some old decaying tree, and left the 
world none the wiser and not much the po:>rer on ac- 
count of what he took with him. From day to day, as 
the pinching frosts of winter came on, and the sons and 
daughters of the noble tillers of the present Eden were 
set free, until the season for planting another crop 
should roll around, these two scores of boys and girls 
were increased until they numbered more than three 
times as many. They were truly a happy band; and 
could they have been visited by some inhabitant of an- 
other planet, or any person who knows nothing of 
mixed schools in the Southern States, he would have 
declared that he had seen an immense family of brothers 
and sisters. And if he had supposed that the principal 
was the father, he would also have declared that he was 



LUDUS LITEllAEIUS. 



49 



a very young-looking man to be the parent of so man> 
pretty rosY-?heeked girls and noble-loolang bop. On 
tha b igbt morning;which we have made a teeble eftort 
todesc.4be,each teacher and every pupil entei-ed v^g- 
o^-ously upon the task assigned hlm.^ Eyerythmg in 
nature and art seemed to be working tor their weltare 
nd the prospects seemed very pronnsing that the ^vho e 
s X months' session would pass away without a single 
sorrow Each day of the same regular routine was gone 
throuo-h with, only the lessons were one step higher 
than those of the 'day previous until Friday evening 
when the weekly roll was cahed, essays read and cor- 
rected useful tables repeated, and orthographical battles 
fought. Thus many happy days were spent pleasantly 
andVoiitably by tliese nicely-behaved pupils and thj 
trclers. Tims'many dithcult problems were so ved 
arfd many useful things brought to light by hard study 
Many times, long after the bell had tolled the hour or 
retirino- they co\ild have been seen pouring over the 
d fficuiTpage^s of the Greek, the Latin and the J5"g^^^^„ 
bS- each'sweet has its bitter," and the bitter cup of 
sorrow was at last mingled with the pure, sweet wateis 
of knowledge and happiness, and these formerly happy 
students we^re compelled to drink it. One glooniy 
morning, when the sun's cheering rays were all shut 
out by dark, thundering clouds, the old bell called he 
students toc^ether as usual, but not to enter upon he 
regular dutfes of the day. That same black monster, 

"Who throws his blight o'er all, ^^ 
And daily dooms some joy to deatu, 

had laid his cold, pitiless hand upon one «/ J^^^;;* \^^^^.^^^^ 
number, and it was to mourn this loss that the> came 
?o^ther at the toll of the bell. The ram had been 



pouring down for several days, and had not yet abated. 
It was one of those rainy, cloudy, gloomy days that are 
apt to herald the approach of spring. What was the 
cause of this meeting ? What was to be done ? Would 
tears restore their beloved companion to life ? No, alas ! 
they are powerless, and he was far beyond the reach of 
all earthly restoratives. His immortal soul had winged 
its flight to the God who gave it, and all that now re- 
mained for his sorrowing companions to do was to lay 
his body down into the cold grave, and there let it rest 
in perfect peace until quickened into life at the sound 
of the trumpet, which will summon all the living and 
the dead to appear before the throne of the Just Judge. 
This they accordingly prepared to do. So the following 
day, in a mournful procession, they conveyed him to his 
last resting-place, and there paid to him the last respect 
that man can pay to his fellow mortal man. They 
buried him. O! what a sad farewell when the cold clods 
are being heaped upon the remains of one who is loved 
and lost! After thus disposing of their companion they 
returned to their books with heavy hearts, and thoughts 
somewhat akin to those of the poet when he wrote: 

"All that's bright must fade. 
The brightest still the fleetest." 

After the sad recollections of their fellow-student, 
and the gloom cast over them by his death, had, to 
some extent, died away, the sunshine of former days 
returned, and they again began to pursue the paths of 
knowledge with diligence, until another blight like the 
one above described was thrown over them. But we 
should endeavor to follow the injunctions of Tom 
Moore : 



LUDUS LITERARIUS. 51 



"Weep not for those whom the veil of the tomb 
In life's happy morning hath hid from our eyes, 
Ere sin threw a blight o'er the spirit's young bloom. 
Or earth has profaned what was born for the skies." 

We are now happy to state that there is very little 
danger of another calamity so bitter as those that they 
have just passed through, visiting them before they 
must part. Let us hope that from henceforth that 

"As half in sun and lialf in shade 
This world along its path advances, 
May that side which the sun's upon 
I3e all that e'er shall meet their glances." 

We have now traced this band of students up to the 
present date, and can, therefore, no longer use the past 
tense in speaking of them. Although diminished, a 
few having dropped out for want of sufficient energ}" 
and industry to keep even pace with their classes, others 
on the account of ill-heaUh or misfortunes in wordly 
aftairs, they are still striving for that great lever — an 
education, with which they will be enabled to turn over 
the most obstinate difficulties of life. We are rejoiced 
to say that most of tliem are making all the progress 
that is reasoiiable to wish in obtaining it. But this 
happy band cannot thus remain together forever. 
Their homes are scattered throughout the country, and 
they must soon part to join their parents and loved ones 
at the dearest spot on earth — home. Some of them 
will traverse the deep sand-beds and red-clay hills of 
Butler, Wilcox, and Covington counties, while others 
will hasten away to the limestone mountains and cedar 
valley's of North Alabama. 

But before they part, they are to be examined in the 
presence of a vast number of spectators, and they are 



52 LUDUS LITERARIUS. 



now preparing speeches, essays, and lessons for the occa- 
sion. They have chosen from among their number a 
noble, energetic, and intelligent young gentleman to 
deliver the introductory oration, and one of the same 
stamp of character, and the same unflinching principles, 
to say the last farewell — to deliver the valedictory, and 
what has not been told of this school in this meager es- 
say will be brought fresh to your minds on that night of 
parting. 

"Adieu, a heart-warm, fond adieu, 
Dear brothers of the mystic tie. " 




THE JOURXEY OF LIFE. 

AN ORATION DELIVERED AT THE CLOi^ING EXERCISES OF 
THE STRATA, ALABAMA, HIGH SCHOOL, APRIL 20, 1880. 

Ladies and Gentlemen : If all the human beings 
that are born in one day could be collected mto one 
grand army there would be enough to make a nation. 
Each day a generation of the sin-cursed sons of Adam 
start from the cradle and journey toward the grave. 
Thrown helpless upon the world as they are, where life 
is so uncertain, many pass out before a year has marked 
its era upon the page of their lives. Launched out into 
the great ocean of existence, their frail barks are soon 
capsized by the dashing waves, and they sink into the 
oblivion of the grave ere we are aware. Like the ten- 
der buds in the lady's vase of ilowers, the first chilling 
wind })lasts them, the first white frost kills them, and 
they are hurried from the shores of time to the unseen 
world before they have learned to lisp the name of 
mother. In five short years more than one-third of this 
generation of infants are sleeping the long sleep of 
death! From five to ten the remainder stand in solid 
phalanx, only here and there one fluttering to the earth 
to rise no more until quickened by Gabriel's trumpet's 
sound. They march on thus, a happy band of innocent 
children — as pure, as free from the stains of wickedness, 
and as beautiful as the angels, who forever chant the 
praises of Jehovah in the paradise above ! After ten 
years have passed away, life puts on its most roseate 
colors ; the full exuberance of youthful vigor shows it- 
self painted on the rosy cheeks. At one moment they 



54 THE JOURNEY OF LIFE. 

are stern and thoughtful, but at the next, as frothy and 
light as the foam of the ocean-wave. Never long in 
weeping over their difficulties, they soon smile again at 
the companions who wronged them. At this age their 
time is spent mostly in such things as gathering flowers, 
chasing butterflies, quarreling over a bite of candy, trad- 
ing playthings, and going to school to learn to spell, 
read, and write — busy, busy little people until they 
stand on the threshold of fifteen years. All along the 
line we can see the phalanx broken, proving that the 
grim-visaged monster has been visiting them ; but a 
host still remains, a part of which will follow us to the 
end of the chapter. After they have passed through the 
heat of fifteen summers^ and braved the storms and 
snows of as many winters, they begin to put away child- 
ish things. During vacations they sometimes make love 
in their leisure hours under the wide-spreading boughs 
of the friendly shade-trees, where the gentle breezes of 
evening may fan the blushing cheeks of the youthful 
pair, and this love, in many instances;, lasts through the 
remainder of their lives. After fifteen years have 
passed away, thoughts set longer on the brow, shadows 
come quickly and wear slowly away, broad platforms 
are laid for future greatness, and magnificent air-cas- 
tles are constructed for future tenure. About this time 
they take an academic course of learning. We scan the 
line again, and behold ! out of the nation of human be- 
ings that started with us on life's journey, only one-half 
remains ! Can this be true ? Does one-half of the hu- 
man family die by the time they are fifteen years of 
age ? It is the Iruth, no matter how astonishing. When 
we lay our fingers on our pulse, we should remember 
that at every beat some fellow-being passes back to old 
mother earth, some immortal soul crosses the river of 



THE JOURNEY OF LIFE. 55 

death, and if loe will but propeii}- consider it, we may 
well wonder that it should be so long before our time 
comes. Between the ages of fifteen and twenty the 
greatest foe to the human family it that awful malacy, 
consumption. He ever haunts the pathw-ay of life, and 
like all other serpents, carries many of the erring sons 
of time to an early grave, by fastening his fangs in their 
vitals. 

It is now time to begin the college hfe. Old friend- 
ships are broken by distance never to be renewed in 
this world ; new associations are formed, new hopes 
are awakened, and the diligent student sets out with re- 
newed energies to obtain an education. 

To those who pass through college and come out 
strong, healthy, refined, and well educated, death seems 
to be away beyond the mountains of life. Somewhere 
in a valley far out toward the end of time they imagine 
they can behold their graves. But, alas ! how many 
look far beyond their own, and dream not that the near- 
est is perhaps the one where they shall sleep ! After the 
college days are over, and the j'oung graduates have 
returned home to their parents and friends, life is com- 
menced in reality. How many are there who are then 
ready to re i eat with our Longfellow: 

" Lives of great men all remind us 

We can make our lives sublime, 
And departinsc leave behind us 

Footprints on the sands of time ; 
Footprints that perhaps another 

Sailing o'er life's solemn main, 
A forlorn and ship-wrecked brother 

Seeing, shall take heart again. 
Let us then be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate — 
Still achieving, still pursuing. 

Learn to labor and to wait." 



We find them next seeking companions with whom 
to journey through life. Everywhere they may be seen 
in pairs — in cabins, huts, cottages, mansions, palaces, and 
kings' courts. The rank is now in double file, and thus 
they journey on up the hill of life, aiding each other to 
bear the heavy burdens in the heat of the day. At 
thirty there are some widows and orphans, carrying a 
heavy burden of grief in their hearts, and bearing the 
mournful testimony of the vanity of earthly hopes. 
There are also grief-stricken husbands, weeping over the 
graves of their departed companions. And the saddest 
spectacle of all, there are motherless, fatherless, and 
friendless little children crying for bread, left in this 
condition to grow up in ignorance and sin. It were 
better for them could they depart and be reunited with 
their fond mothers and fathers that have passed awa}. 

" Boast not, man, in thy pride of strength, 
For the stoutest oak shall decay at length; 
Thy years glide on like a tale that's told; 
With each fleeting breath thou art growing old! '' 

But let us look on the bright side of the picture and 
see if there are not some pleasures at this age. At 
thirty man seems to enjoy life more than at any other 
period of his existence. When the young husband and 
father comes home from his labors at night-fall, he is 
met by the pleasant smiles of his loving young wife and 
the merry prattle^of his little children. His being in real- 
ity a home, he is made to enjoy it better than any other 
place on earth. 

We now pass to forty, and we find that man has 
reached the climax of his earthly hopes and the maxi- 
mum of earthly strength. He is now a man in might 
and mind, and in joys and sorrows he finds his highest 
and deepest at this age. 



THE JOURNEY OF LIFE. 57 



''Eternal nature ! when thy giant hand 
Had heaved the floods and fixed the trembling land ; 
When life sprang startling by thy plastic call. 
Endless her forms, then man the lord of all !" 

For ten years now a level plain may stretch out be- 
fore onr noble-looking army. They are at last on the 
summit, and the pathway of life is now strewn with the 
richest and most fragrant flowers. 

After ten years have passed away, the declivity is 
reached, and "they slowly but surely begin to descend the 
slope of the hill "of hfe." They can see far out into the 
level valley beneath them, where flows the river of 
death! They strain their dim eyes to see beyond the 
river, and can behold nothing but one grand human 
grave-yard ! They can see some of the old -weather- 
beaten veterans of the generation that has just preceded 
them laying their earthly armor down and putting on 
the robes of inmiortality ! 

" Old age comes on and approaching nighr 
Casts a sadd'ning shade over all things bright. 
Save the rosy tinge of the glowing west, 
Which seems the smile of some land more blest !" 

The journey is becoming easier, the burden of the day 
is passed, and the sun shines on the other side of the 
hill. 

At sixty, if some of them have not dropped on the 
way with fatigue, they still go hand in hand, down the 
hill of life. But at seventy, oh, how thin the ranks! how 
few and far between the travelers along life's gloomy 
pathway! Far out in one direction maybe seen an old 
man, his back bending low with age, and his head blos- 
soming for the tomb; a staft" is in his hand, and he is 
feeling his way with trenililing steps along the shaded 
road of Hfe! Out in another way may be seen a feeble 



58 THE JOURNEY OF LIFE. 

old woman, with her knitting in her hand, endeavoring 
to see her path through a pair of aged silver-rimmed spec- 
tacles which she continually wears. But both these old 
people are alone, for their companions were long since 
left in the graves behind them, and they too are heard to 
whisper, 

"I liave lived long enough ; my way of life 
Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf ; 
And that which should accompany old age. 
As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, 
I must not look to have ! " 

At four-score nearly all have halted at their own 
tombs, but on still further an occasional stone, a slab, or 
a monument tells of a belated traveler ! 

"Though the chill of death steals o'er thee now, 
A holy halo enwreathes thy brow, 
And waiting above thee, an angel band 
Waves the oriflamme of the better land: 
They beckon thy soul from its house of clay, 
And wait to bear thee away— away !" 

There is but one in every ten thousand who will reach 
the hundredth year ! There he drops, after having borne 
life's burden so long, and all is still, and this generation 
is soon forgotten bv their successors. There are a few, 
however, who will be remembered until the end of time 
for some great and good deed that they have performed, 
or some irredeemable evil that they have done while 
sojourners in this land of sin and sorrows. Do you 
ask, "What is this picture?" It is man sealing his 
own condemnation, or working out his own salvation. 

If he would be a participant in the inestimable joys of 
heaven, when the journey of life is ended, there are 
some things that he must accomplish, there are some 
rules that he must adhere to while performing the 



THE JOURKEY OF LIFE. 59 



journey. Above all things he must steer clear of the 
quicksands of evil, and keep himself unspotted from the 
impure cravings of the animal man. lie must come out 
in the end without a single blemish upon his garment. 
Should he, through carelessness or otherwise, become 
filthy, he must wash himself clean in the blood of the 
Lamb before ending the journey ! If man is thus care- 
ful, and is on the Lord's side when he comes in contact 
with death, his conflict with the monster will not be a 
severe one; he will soon conquer him, and like Paul of 
old, be able to exclaim : " ! Death, where is thy sting? 
O ! Grave, where is thy victory ?" Then after death his 
immortal soul will wing its flight to the God who gave 
it, and with the redeemed of earth he will sing the 
praises of Jehovah through all eternity ! 
We can then say : 

" There is bliss, tliere is bliss in the regions above ; 

They have opened the gates to the sky ; 
A spirit has soared to those mansions of love, 

And waits for admittance on high ; 
There friends long divided are hasting to greet 

In a land where no sorrow may come. 
The seraphs are eager a sister to meet, 

And to welcome the child to its home. 
There is bliss, there is bliss at the foot of tlie Throne- 
See the spirit all pnrifled bend. 
And it beams with delight since it gazes alone, 

On the face of a Father, a Friend : 
Then it joins in the anthems forever that rise, 

All its frailties and follies forgiven; 
It is dead to the earth, and new-born to the skies. 

And this is the portion of heaven ! '■ 

[See Xote 7th.] 



A SOUTHERN VILLAGE.— JIfay, 1881. 

Of all the beautiful little tovvns scattered throughout 
our Southern country, there is none that can excel Zim- 
brida. This is the most attractive one, as well for its 
pleasant situation as for the hospitality of its people; and 
its beautiful maidens possess no small degree of attrac- 
tion for those who may be magnetized by the arts of 
Helena. 

This charming little town is situated on the peninsula 
between the Gaudalquivir and the Pizella rivers, twin 
streams that unite and form a good-sized, navigable 
river, that rolls away in majestic grandeur toward the 
Mexican gulf. 

It is just half of a mile from the business centre of 
the village to the junction of the rivers, which really is 
a treble junction, because the Dopebruke creek con- 
tributes its waters to the Gaudalquivir about a hundred 
and fifty yards above where the sweeping Pizella meets 
it. The Gaudalquivir is the strongest stream of the 
three, and therefore rules in both name and direction. 
Its waters are deep, rapid, and clouded with mud. and 
rush on as if cognizant of the fact that they were born 
to rule. 

The Pizella is not so deep, but even more rapid, and 
its waters melt away into the Gaudalquivir like the stars 
before the superior light of the morning sun. The 
waters are deep down in the rock walls that have been 
hewn out by nature's own great Architect. 

" And thou, exulting and abounding river ! 
Making thy waves a blessing as they tiow 
Through l)anlcs whose beauty would endure forever; 
Could man but leave thy bright creation so, 



A SOUTHERN VILLAGE. 61 



Nor its fair promises from the surface mow 
With the sharp scythe of conflict— then to see 

Thy valley of sweet waters were to know 
Earth paved like heaven ! " 

The waters of Dopebruke creek are as clear as crystal, 
and more refreshing than nectar. Within its cool and 
shady bosom the village maidens spend many of their 
summer hours, and no doubt this, to some extent, ac- 
counts for their marvelous beauty. 

The daughters of Zimbrida are refined and intelligent, 
as well as accomplished swimmers, and, taken as a 
whole, they are far in advance of the surrounding world 
in musical and literary acquirements. At twilight on 
any evening if the traveler will take a stroll through 
the town, strains of the sweetest music will greet his 
ears on every side. Although the inhabitants are poor 
and far remote from the fashionable world, there is 
either an organ or piano in almost every house, and in 
many of them both nuiy be seen. 

I once had the pleasure of visiting Zimbrida in the 
winter, and while there I obtained permission to call 
upon one of the young ladies. Instead of reading worth- 
less novels, as the girls of our fashionable towns and 
cities usually do, I found her pouring over the abstruse 
pages of Livy. 

There is a ferry at the junction of the rivers, kept by 
an agreeable old lady, who speaks five difl:erent lan- 
guages. The town of Zimbriua is more than three- 
score miles remote from a railroad, and in traveling to 
it one would think the surrounding country too thinly 
inhabited to support a town, for in many places there 
are ten miles of road and not a single habitation. 

The above is true, the names of the town, creek, and 
rivers bein^ concealed. 



PART SECOND. 



POETRY 



' I sit me down to pass the time, 
And spin a verse or twa o' rhyme." 

— Robert Burns. 



TOKGUE ; OR, THE TEMPTATIONS OF LIFE. 

1880. 
{'■' To 2J0int a moral.''''— Johnson.) 

" How 'Wisdom and Folly meet, mix and unite, 
How virtue and vice hlend their black and their white, 
How genius, the illustrious father of fiction, 
Confounds rule and law, reconciles contradiction, 
I sing;— if these mortals, the critics, should hustle, 
I care not, not I! let the critics go whistle- 
But 71010 for a patron whose name and whose glory 
At once may illustrate and honor my story I " 

— Eobert Burns. 

PROLOGUE. 
I. 

" I want a hero," quite a common want 

Among those members of the fairer sex, 
Whose charms by nature given don't enchant 

The men enough to malie them slaves, or vex 
Those hickier fair ones, who by chance can flaunt 
In richer dress, which conceals the defects 
Tliat the poorer class of humanity 
Can't hide, although as great their vanity. 

(See Note S.) 
II. 

But 'tis not a gallant we want, nor beau— 
That is, we do not need them at the present; 

Perhaps before we finish our hero 
"Will be love's and woman's— indeed 'tis pleasant, 



66 TOKGUE ; OK, THE TEMPTATIONS OF LIFE. 

(Though not very profitable,) both to 
Bead and write a good love tale, if it hasn't 
A meaner or a worse interpretation 
Than winning one your own age and station. 

III. 

Many rhymes have been written in the past, 

That deserve a good amount of credit ; 
But for no cause these writers were not classed 

Among great authors of their time — yet it 
Seems strange that some, whose verses cannot last 
Through time, were lucky enough to get it; 
And bards whose names a Shakespeare's page would grace, 
Can never have in future hearts a place. 

IV. 

We search for a hero whose name will be 
To our theme and story like an index ; 
To make our hero and our theme agree. 

His name to be the subject, would perplex 
A longer head than ours, perhaps ; we see 
Many stories that have far less defects 
Than this will have ; but what we're hunting, 
Seems in all past rhymes to be quite wanting. 

V. 

I'd hoped to find a subject that would suit, 

Without taxing my poor brain to make it ; 
And I had hoped to get a thought " to boot," 

But did not intend by stealth to take it ; 
For of all the sins that are as black as soot. 
Is plagiarism; then let's all forsake it; 
But ev'rything has, that we've been stating, 
Been said, but facts need reiterating. 



TOiTGUE ; OR, THE TEMPTATIONS OF LIFE. 67 

VI. 

A hero and a subject, both in one 

Will suit the case best; we've searched among 
The tales of ancient and modern times, none 
We've found that exactly fits ; Byron sung 
" Childe Harold's Pilgrimage " and " Don Juan" — 
But our hero and subject shall be Tongue ! 
Some will say: " It is a bad selection," 
And others mark it with a plain rejection. 

VII. 

But why do I care V Praise is oft bestowed 
On those who deserve it least— and why so ? 

Many of earth's unfortunates bear a load 
Of blame for things they don't and would not do; 

And while we travel o'er life's weary road 
We'll find it ever thus: that some below 

Are ever ready with a willing hand 

To crush aspirants to the good and grand. 

VIII. 

"Fame is the thirst of youth," so Byron wrote. 

But there are some exceptions to all rules, 
And in this place a more appropriate thouglit 

Is, fame always is the thirst of fools ; 
For we ourselves, though rather young, do not 
Have a thirst for fame like some who in schools 
Poetasteric have grown old, and who 
The world knows not, ne'er will, and never knew ! 

IX. 

The subject, Tongue, is taken for this reason, 

It suits, for with it we can give to you 
A rhyme that brings each thought in proper season; 

Beginning with intemperance, he'll go through 



68 TONGUE ; OR, THE TEMPTATIONS OF LIFE. 

A list of things, sucli as lying, teasing, 
And other things that tongues are apt to do; 
For instance, insinuating that they can 
Talk with more sense than any other man. 

X. 

But while we're on the subject of the things 

That tongues can do, we'd better say they'll preach, 
And— by the way, which noble calling brings 

But little pay— also, some tongues can teach; 
And I know one tongue, only one, that clings 
Unto the mouth's roof most all the time. Each 
Should use this small member in a manner 
To cast no reflections on the owner. 

XI. 

But 'tis not owners alone, but other 

People also, upon whom sometimes these 
Reflections are cast ; 'tis best to smother 

From our minds conversationalities 
That bring in question the good character 
Of one whom we would always like to please; 
Then let us guard the wayward little tongue, 
From whose free use hate, blows, and death have sprung. 

XII. 

But our hero is not quite so small 

As that member which we call the " taster; " 
Tongue sinner, or Tongue saint, what e'er you'll call 

Him when you have read of each disaster 
Through which he passed, is just about as tall 
As " Uncle Sam," (and well can he master 
His tongue at times,) and our old rover, 
Is " most as high round as he's big over !" 



TONGUE ; OR, THE TEMPTATIONS OF LIFE. 69 

XIII. 
He's not so hard to persuade into a thing 

The first time, but rather hard the second-, 
He'd rather be called " Colonel " than be king, 

And have all earth bow whene'er he beckoned ; 
And that peculiar tact, which seems to bring 
Friends to a man, was his Rightly reckoned, 
He was a kind of right-hand man to all. 
And had a cheerful word for great and small. 

XIV. 

This scribbling does not seem like rhyme to me. 

That is, it does not seem to have the jingle, 
A comma at the end of every line should be. 

If not they are apt to intermingle, 
And lose the greatest charm in poetry; 
Most folks like the sounding tin-tin-tinkle 
Better than the sense; but you'll play crambo 
To find either here, and use a flambeau ! 

XV. 

"But for the present, gentle reader, and 

Still gentler purchaser ! the bard — that's I— 
Must with permission sliake you by the hand. 
And so your humble servant, and good-bye ! 
We meet again, if we should understand 
Each other; and if not, I shall not try 
Your patience after the following sample — 
'Twere well if others follow my example! " 

(See Note 9.) 

XVI. 

We have, in this, taken up too much time; 

But soon we'll close out this tonguy prologue; 
Reader, pass not a sentence on this rhyme. 

Till you have read what follows on him incog — 



70 TONGUE. 



This age of crafty critics and of crime 
Has procluced quite a lengthy catalogue, 
Who'll tell you we've tried to be Byronic 
In this long prologue, others, I— ronic. " 



TONGUE. 

CANTO I . 

A traveller once upon a time, 

(Who, by the way, could sometimes rhyrce,) 

In roaving round once passed a mill, 

And near to it a whisky-still ; 

The same old man who was the miller. 

Could also play the liquor-stiller, 

And keeps free drinks for those who will 

Bring corn to him, his mill, or still. 

Travellers often pass that way. 

Going to and coming from the bay, 

And many of them knew the mill. 

But few there were who knew the still. 

For it was hid away from view, 

To shun the U. S. Kevenue; 

And many days this wicked still 

Stood unmolested near the mill. 

It was a hot and sultry noon, 

And every leaf was still. 
The year had flown to middle June, 

When Tongue stopped at the mill. 
" Give me a drink of water pure, 

To quench my parching thirst; 
Of all pains that we here endure, 

I'm sure this is the worst." 
The miller said to him, " Go drink, 

The pond is free of charge," 



TONGUE. 71 



So Tongue knelt down upon the brink, 

And drank draughts long and large. 
When he had fully quenced his thirst 

He rose to go away, 
And felt as if he must soon burst; 

"Just stop one minute pray," 
Said Mister Miller as he went 

With liurried steps along 
The foot-path which led to his tent, 

Humming a little song. 

Tongue paused a moment, for he felt 

That he much needed rest, 
But stopping made him think he'd melt. 

So he untied his vest; 
The heat of Southern summer time 

Is very great indeed, 
Too great to be expressed in rhyme, 

For cooler climes to read. 
But in a trice out Miller came 

Forth from his mealy door; 
He held in hand a hotter flame. 

That Toiigue had known before. 
'Twas not a real burning flame, 

The honest miller had. 
But all it lacked was just the name, 

In truth, it was as bad. 
'Twas not a flame of fire for sure, 

That Miller held aloof, 
But 'twas a flask of " Bourbon " pure. 

That long had graced his roof. 
Think of the great allurements rife 

That lead poor man astray 
From virtue's narrow path in life, 

And off from wisdom's way ! 



72 TOKGUE. 



He went to Tongue upon the brink, 

And with a long, low bow. 
Said, " Mister, will you have a drink ? " 

Quothed Tongue, " I'm bursted now ! " 
Said Miller then, " Tongue, this is not 

Like that stuff you've just drank; 
That mill-pond water makes you hot. 

This, sir, will cool your tank ! 
So take a drink, and you'll feel like 

Your route you can pursue; 
Go down 'bout a three-finger strike ; 

That water makes you blue !" 
Quoth Tongue, "■ I blew 'nough yesterday 

For an elephantine lung. 
And I'm blowing my full share to-day, 

As sure's my name is Tongue !" 
" But this," said Miller, holding up 

His flask before Tongue's eyes, 
" Is stimulating— here's a cup- 
Man knows not, till he tries, 
What virtue there is in this flask, 

So you had better try't; 
Just take one drink, 'tis all I ask, 

Then you will feel all right I" 
But Tongue protested if he quaffed, 

He feared the consequence ; 
He'd sooner risk the mill-pond draught 

Than Miller's feeble sense. 
Much more than this, he said he'd learned 

That spirits are not fit 
For use at all times, that they burned 

Men into hell-fire. "It 
Is a fact," said miller, " some, 

Who've evil patlis pursued, 
At last to drunkards' graves have come, 



TONGUE. 73 



And thus made bad of good. 
Why, Mister Tongue, 1 will declare. 

By all that's sacred held, 
That in one drink there is no snare !" 

At last poor Tongue did yield ! 
O ! for that firmness in mankind 

To shun the poisoned drink, 
And with a nobleness of mind 

To teach the sot to think ! 
At the first touch, he smacked his lips, 

And said, '' It tastes quite well ;" 
Then gave the flask two other tips, 

Then said, " I'll stop a spell, 
And see what good effect it has 

Upon a hot man's frame." 
Just then the cunning miller says, 

" I'll swear by my good name. 
It will not hurt you in the least ! 

I've used it many a year; 
'Tis true too much makes man a beast, 

But drink, you need not fear!" 
When firm Persuasion lends her aid 

To push the cause of crime. 
Her subtle lies are soon obeyed 

By artless sons of time; 
Then turning up the flask again, 

Tongue drained it to the dregs; 
Then turning round to get his cane, 

(Which made for him three legs,) 
He bade bis host a kind farewell. 

And forthwith left the mill; 
As he walked on a little spell 

Came o'er him like a chill. 
And, O ! that partly blessed pain 

That comes to human hearts 



74 TONGUE. 



When sin, the serpent, leaves the stain, 

That conscious guilt imparts ! 
He had not gone far ere he felt 

A little sick at heart. 
And soon he wished that he had dwelt, 

During the day or part 
Of it at least, under the shade 

Of the young willow trees. 
Or that which the old mill-house made. 

And spent one day in ease. 

Like oxen overcome with heat, 

Tongue slowly laid him down, 
With naught to shield his head and feet 

From off the grassy ground. 
He longed for ice, he longed for snow. 

He longed for water cold. 
And for the little brooks that flow 

Across his farm— then sold. 
Before the cup of life is filled, 

With contentment or despair, 
'Tis then that hopeful mortals build 

Their castles in the air ! 
" If I now had the power," he said, 

" To Northern climes I'd go; 
In snow I'd lay this weary head. 

And make my bed of snow ! 
From whisky and from Miller then 

Forever I'd be free — 
The wiles of cunning, crafty men 

Would no more trouble me ! 
No more I'd be compelled to pass 

That doubly-cursed still; 
No more of slimy mill-pond draughts 
My stomach would I fill ! 



TONGUE. 75 



I would forever more be free 
From Southern summer's heat ; 

No melting rays world fall on me — 
Up there hail, snow, ice, sleet. 

In melodies both loud and low, 
I would forever greet — 

And with the native Esquimaux, 
On barren plains I'd meet ! 

We'd hunt the walrus and the seal. 
The white bear and the deer ; 

Of these we'd make each hearty meal, 
"With ice so cold and clear ! 

We'd drink the unctuous oil of whales, 
That strengthens up man 's frame — 

That takes the place of poisonous ales, 
Which set us all aflame ! 

We'd dress up in the fur of seals, 
And ride forth in the sleigh : 

Feel as for brother, brother feels. 
And chase all cares away !" 

Now, while thus to himself he mused. 
Tongue sick and sicker grew ; 

He dreamed his clothes were much abused, 
His hat was all askew. 

He thought that from his mouth there oozed 
A barrel of sour-krout ; 

A little hell in it infused. 
Caught fire while coming out. 

The devils green, the devils red, 
The devils black and blue— 

The devil< live, the devils dead. 
The devils false and true- 
In fact, the whole infernal race 
That dwells in Tartarus— 
From old Nick in the middle place, 



76 TONGUE. 



To his least subject-cuss— 

In solid phalanx seemed to come, 
With thorns and hookers-on; 

Some took right after poor old Tongue, 
While some were lookers-on ! 

The fancies of a burning brain, 
And evils dreams declare, 

The stomach's in too great a strain, 
Or has too great a share ! 

Through valley and through desert drear, 
In breathless haste ran they, 

Until the devils very near 
Made poor old Tongue their prey ! 

Then turning toward the Southern pole, 
O'er lands and seas he flew. 

Nor rest sought he, nor prize, nor goal, 
The devils did pursue ! 

Sierra Madra's chain he scaled, 
'Twas a tremendous feat. 

But well he knew that ifi-he failed. 
He'd be those devils' meat ! 

" Now from the shores of Mexico 
To Blanco's stony wharf," 

Says Tongue, " if I don't quickly go, 
I shall be taken off ! " 

Perhaps you will not this believe. 
Yet ne'ertheless 'tis so — 

(I don't intend you to deceive,) 
Tongue jumped from Mexico I 

Over the great Pacific wide, 
A bird he seemed to go; 

Nor feared the wind, nor feared ihe tide, 
Eight on to cape Blanco ! 

When on the land he placed his feet, 
The devils too were there, 



TONGUE. 77 



To share with laim the torrid heat, 
His travels too to share ! 

The devils white, black, red, and green, 
The devils brown and blue — 

In fact, just then by Tongue was seen 
The whole infernal crew ! 

Old Nick, himself, led on before, 
Cain next was in command, 

Then followed 'bout a score or more 
Leaders with each a band. 

Old Satan with deceitful might, 
Holds out his snares by day; 

And in the dark and dreary night. 
In dreams he'll cross our way. 

And if a conscious guilt, he'd find, 
Tor evils done by day, 

Inhabiting the human mind, 
He'd hold v, ith it full sway ! 

Tongue thought it time to start again, 
And leave the cape Blanco; 

He had more work before him then. 
Than jumping from Mexico. 

The Andes heights must next be scaled, 
'Twas a tremendous feat. 

But well he knew that if he failed, 
Great then would be the heat I 

Then to their highest peak he flies, 
More fleet than a gazelle; 

The top being reached, he turned his eyes 
To view the hosts of hell. 

" Great Ctesar ! They are on each side, 
As far as I can see! 

They 're coming up the mountain side, 
AVhat shall I do ? P]-ay ? 

Whafs the use ? Can it be I'm trumped ? 



78 TONGUE. 



je ! What shall I do ? " 

"What did he do ? " you ask; he jumped 
To Monte Video ! 

The Rio De La Platta then, 
The next thing in his way, 

He had no idle breath to spend, 
The devils did not stay 

Upon the Andes' stony heights; 
For worn-out Tongue they spied; 

They very quickly took their flights, 
Across the pampas wide, 

And down they lit around old Tongue. 
His courage failed him then. 

Or very likely he'd have sprung 
Unto Snepuwhergen !— (pep Note v th.) 

With fienuish glee they seized each limb, 
To hear him scream they grin, 

And give a hell-brewed drink to him, 
That brings to mind each sin. 

And when an outraged conscience smites 
The sin-polluted heart, 

'Tis worse than all the poisoned bites 
That serpents can impart ! 

They bound his hands with chains of brass, 
That were then burning hot; 

His feet in irons they made fast. 
That had no link nor knot; 

Then in the front of all the band, 
Upon a car of fire 

They placed him, on each side a brand; 
Was caught at their desire. 

Then there arose yell after yell 
Of deep and hellish sound ! 

Old earth shook with an ague spell 
For many miles around ! 



TONGUE. 79 



Then slowly earth began to sink, 
The place whereon they were, — 

Until 'twas level with the brink 
Of hell and dark despair ! 

Then to its very highest stride 
Heirs demons raised their ire; 

The devils were on every side, 
In front the lake of fire ! 

Two demons came to Tongue and raised 
Him from his burning car. 

Upon him a short time they gazed, 
Then turned to look afar. 

They saw the brimstone ebb and flow 
"Within the burning lake; 

Then forthwith to its banks they go, 
And by his heels they take 

Poor Tongue, and swing him to and fro 
Into the blinding smoke, — 

Then — horrid sight !— what did they do V 
Why, then old Tongue awoke ! 

The dream was out. Tongue turned about, 
His eyes with wonder gleamed ; 

But very soon he found it out, 
That he had only dreamed. 

The sun had shone full in his face. 
And had a blister made ; 

He looked round for a cooler place. 
Where there were leaves and shade. 

Under a monster spreading oak 
His aching head he bid, — 

In accents soft and low he spoke. 
And to himself he said : — 

"If drinking whisky treats men thus 
111 travel o'er this land, 

And warn mankind against the curse. 



80 TONGUE. 



From pulpit, stump, and stand." 

O, noble man ! God's image true ! 
When with a willing hand, 

You do that which you find to do,— 
Obeying His command ! 

He turned about, picked up his cane, 
And to his home he went; 

He'll be, when we find him again, 
On reformation bent. 

In his collection he found books 
That argued against rum. 

Through every one of these he looks; 
His speech here is the sum 

Of what he found to suit his case; — 
When fully memorized, 

He went into a village place, 
And thus he advertised : — 

' 'To-morrow night at half-past eight, 
Within the City Hall, 

Positively no change in date. 
Come husbands, wives, and all, 

A Mister Tongue, A. M., will make, 
On whisky drinks, a speech ; 

As to how much of it to take. 
To stimulate he'll teach. 

Terms : Tipplers all may come in free, 
Topers and sots the same ; 

Cats and dogs must stay away. 
Or I'll knock them with my cane. 

Come one, come all, and do not fail. 
The speech will be sublime ; 

He outsoars comets— less the tail ! 
Don't you forget the time ! " 

In the Good News this "ad" was placed. 



TONGUE'S ADDBESS ON INTEMPERANCE. 81 



And went to far and near. 

And many happy faces graced 
The hall, who came to hear. 

The '' city hall " was crowded full 
Of every kind of men; 

From Know-it-all, just out of school, 
To old black uncle Ben. 

Tongue rose with all his extra grace, 
And very humbly bowed ; 

AVhile joy lighted up his face. 
He thus addressed the crowd :— 



TONGUE'S ADDRESS ON INTEMPERANCE. 

1880. 

Ladies and Gentlemen : I'm here to-night 
To advocate the cause of truth and right ; 
To show to poor, deluded, soul-sick man. 
The length and breadth of God's predestined plan; 
How He ordained that man should never stray 
From honest nature's paths and mapped-out way. 
I know a man who holds the blessed state 
Between low poverty and riches great ; 
Unto the poor man's wants he seemeth blind. 
While the rich man's cares never vex his mind. 
He's lord of all his lands and flocks around; 
With peas and corn his granaries abound ; 
His home-cured meats within his larders lie- 
When neighbors borrow he will not deny. 
At morn he rises at the break of day. 
And goes forth to his work without delay, 
His hirelings come and go just at his call, 
And for their pay they do not wait till fall,— 
Each eve when in the west the sun goes down 



The silver cash their daily labors crown. 

He lives to nature, and cannot be poor— 

Who lives to fancy never can be more. 

A peaceful essence seems diffused through all,— 

His spouse is always calm " though china fall.'" 

His happy children love to tend the school, 

And seldom disobey their teacher's rule — 

And more than this, when school is out, the pay 

He holds not back, but settles right away. 

He to the village church on Sunday goes 

And takes a seat among the foremost rows, 

And when he's asked to help along the cause 

He draws his purse without a moment's pause, 

And gives, as unto him his God hath given. 

His mite to aid the cause of Christ and Heaven ! 

In fact, he is in every sense a man, 

And God doth bless his every well-set plan ; 

A man of morals and of sense combined. 

Well worthy of a place among mankind ! 

To aid the poor, liis hard-earned cash he gives. 

Thus lives for others, while for himself he lives. 

O ! Generosity, thou art a virtue kind. 

That dwells in triumph in a noble mind ! 

When we obey the heavenly. Holy Word, 

To help the poor, we lend it to the Lord ! 

When in the town he never enters in 

Those low, degraded, hellish haunts of sin, 

But stands aloof, and calls himself a man, 

Who takes within his mind's extended span 

The curse of such, as well as present pleasure. 

Which comes at last heaped up in fullest measure. 

And then of curses all the greatest curse. 

Which robs man of his senses and his purse, 

The rum-fiend bold, that now controls the land, 

And rules his subjects with a tyrant's hand, 



TONGUE'S ADDRESS O^ INTEMPERANCE. 83 



He shuns, as sailors shun projecting rocks, (See Note nth.) 

And guards his sons, as shepherds guard their flocks. 

And teaclies them the poisoned curse to shun. 

As shepherds teach their flocks from wolves to run; 

And they, his sons, stand wrapt in deep desire 

To heed the teachings of their noble sire ! 

With him, as others, time seems very fleet. 

But every day he makes a day complete, 

For when he sees that something should be done, 

He does not wait until to-morrow's sun. 

To quench his thirst Tongue paused a bit. 
Like circuit riders do 

When they can't find a clause to fit— 
And thus began anew : 
I knew another, who in vices rleep 
His noble manhood in his youth did steep, 
Until too great for mortal man to bear 
He sunk in want to misery and despair ! 
And Death, the demon that doth ever crave 
To close man's life, and drive him to the grave, 
Raised o'er his head a wretched drunkard's tomb, 
And stamped on that the curse, the drunkard's doom ! 
And then that part of man that never dies 
When life is gone, which into hades flies, 
Into tlie jaws of endless, burning hell 
Is sent, throughout eternity to dwell ! (See Note 12th.) 
0! wretched man! dost thou disdain to be 
Erom servile masters and from tyrants free? 
Or wilt thou throw the chains of these afar, 
And ride triumphantly on freedom's car? 
Dost thou not feel the rum-fiend's deadly curse, 
Who steals thy life away, and robs thy purse; 
Who will thy liberty from thee expel. 
And bind thy soul in an unending hell? 
Canst thou, O man! thus sacrifice thine all, 



84 TONGUE'S ADDRESS ON INTEMPERANCE. 



And bow a slave unto the rum-fiencrs call? 

How canst thou say : "I love sweet liberty," 

And still claim Bacchus as thy deity? 

Cursed rum ! Freedom finds in thee a grave ! 

By thee and for thee man is made a slave ! 

He'll humbly lay his hope of heaven down, 

His Elder Brother and his God disown, (see Note 13th.) 

And swear with rum to live, for rum to die, 

And this vile oath he never will belie ! 

And as thy slave, he'll give up earthly ties. 

Forsaking all earth's better social joys; 

With sots and murderers hell keep company, 

Instead of those of his own family ! 

In raging madness he will curse his life; 

With shameful threats he'll drive his weeping wife ; 

His children, who once loved to win his smile. 

Now shrink from him as from a serpent's coil ! 

He'll see them cry in want of bread to eat. 

He'll see them bare and cold from head to feet ! 

He'll see them die and 'neath f he sod be laid, 

But still he'll not forsake the vow he made ! 

Rum's slave he is, rum's slave he'll ever be 

Until rum burns out his immortality ! 

Then when upon death's cold and dying bed, 

"Cold sweat in clammy drops his limbs o'erspread," 

There, on a drunkard's lowly couch of death. 

And with his very last expiring breath 

He'll curse his dearest friend, he'll curse his life, 

He'll curse his children and he'll curse his wife; 

He'll curse their last, their dying, starving, cry; 

He'll curse his soul, he'll curse his God, and die I 

Tongue paused a little while just here. 
And looked round o'er the room; 

His congregation gave a cheer, 
Then Tongue said, " To resume:" 



So long as the curse is dealt out to man 

By the cold-hearted, avaricious clan, 

Who fill up the bowl with the poisonous draught. 

By some poor sot to be greedily quaffed. 

Who once was happy, and beloved by all. 

But who in the runi-nend's fetters did fall: 

I say, so long as the retailers sell 

The deadly, burning ' beverage of hell," 

Just so long a part of mankind will be 

Slaves to rum, to sin, and to misery ! 

And is there naught that can persuade you then, 

O ! dealers in this mighty foe to men, 

To abandon rumV Henceforth, forever more. 

To closfe the dram-shop's sin-polluted door V 

O ! have you souls to judge the right from wrong V 

How can you lull this soul to sleep so long V 

In this liellish trade, O ! do you ever think, 

" Woe unto him that giveth his neighbor drink ! " 

If you will sell the rum-fiend, then still rolls 

The waves of death upon his fettered souls ! 

" Ye who regardless of your country's good, 

Fill up your coffers with the price of l)lood; 

Who pour out poison with a liberal hand, 

And scatter crime and misery-through the land, 

Though now rejoicing in the midst of health, 

In full possession of ill-gotten wealth, 

Yet a few days at most, the hour must come 

When you shall know the poison-seller's doom, 

And shrink beneath it, for upon you all 

The indignation of a God must fall ! " 

Tongue closed, for he had said enough. 

Or said just what he could; 
The Good jSfeivs gave his speech a " puff," 

And said 'twould do much good. 



86 EPILOGUE. 



His friends all met him, when he went 
Down from the speaker's stand, 

And many with the warm intent. 
To shake his friendly liand. 



EPILOGUE. 



I. 



" Nothing's so difficult as a beginning 

In poesy, unless, perhaps, the end; 
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning 

The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend, 
Like Lucifer when hurled from heaven for sinning, 
Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,— 
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far, 
Till our own weakness shows us what we are." 

(See Note 14th.) 
II. 

Byron said many noble things in rhyme, 

That are not equaled, and never will be ;— 
Through all the mighty lapse of future time. 

Unchanged, the same great bard he jnust still be,— 
He takes alone his lofty fliglit sublime ; 
For no other poet ever will see 
ISfature's works as he saw them, or command 
With pen the beauties of both sea and land. 

II I. 

But to return to my neglected tlieme ; 

I must say something of my hero; Tongue 
W ill be finished in future if my scheme 

Is carried out, and future rhymes are strung ; 



EPILOGUE. 87 



But should this, my first short poetic dream, 
Be cast aside, and not be classed among 
A school-boy's first attempts, I'll sing no more, 
Back to Mnemosyne ray muse restore. 

iv;. 

And now, kind reader, if you've read this through, 
And gained a thought that you can think of now. 
That brings refiections that are good and true 

Unto your mind ;— a thought that clothes the brow 
With better understanding of the few 
Things that Ave've wrote of, then we've done enow ; 
If we've not ranked, in your superior sense. 
With better bards, forgive the foul offence ! 

Y. 

But now tlie time has come to say '• Farewell ! '' 

And O ! what bitter tears do partings bring. 
When kindred hearts with strong emotions swell. 

Whose chords of friendship round each other cling, 
When in the mind those blest reflections dwell, 
That gives to parting its severest sting. 
And friend must take and clasp the hand of friend. 
And in a last adieu, him to his God commend ! 

(See Note l.Tth.) 

VI. 

TIlis finishes Canto the First of Tongue, 
And perhaps there ne'er will be another : 

For from a mind of -s this one was wrung. 

And therefore your "rhyme-composing brother," 
Witli richer thoughts must have his harp new strung. 
Ere with the second he attempts to bother. 
For fear we'll vide our Pegasus to death, 
We'll stop and let our winged horse take breath. 



DEATH. 

ISSl. 
I. 

Cold ! cold are thy waters, O river of death ! 

As they roll witk a noiseless wave 
To the heart of a sufferer gasping for breath, 
In the fatal enihrace and shackles of death, 

On the silent verge of the grave ! 

II. 

Then, there are petitions from penitent hearts, 

And pleadings for mercy and love; 
For freedom from sin, ere the spirit departs 
From its earthly tabernacle, whence it starts, 

To be judged at the Throue above. 

III. 

And then, there are deep supplications for time, 

Just a few days more will suffice; 
In accents hollow, and in pleadings sublime, 
Intermingled with doubts and fears that his crime 

Will not be erased ere he dies ! 

IV. 

And then, there is trusting and leaving to God, 

The hope of salvation at last; 
That he will make pure the soul, ere the sod 
Keceives back its own, before the cold clod 

Upon the dark coffin is cast. 

V. 

And then there's a feeling serene and sublime, 

In a heart overflowing with love ; 
And he points to the skies in mute pantomime, 
As if to say, *' Now's the accepted time 

For my soul to be borne above !" 



DEATH. 89 



VI. 



And then, there is calling to friends that are near ; 

As they press his cold icy hand, 
And bathe it with tears, he too slieds a tear, 
Bids adieu to those so near and so dear, 

And says, " Meet me in th' better land !" 

VII. 

And then, the mind takes a review of the past, 

For life's labors are almost o'er ; 
And the breath is fleeting, and sliortening fast. 
And then, there's a grasp, and they say it's the last, 

And the sufferer lives no more ! 

VIII. 

And now, his friends weep by the couch of the dead, 

And make mention of him that's gone ; 
They speak of the wife to the altar lie led. 
Of his children dependent on her for bread, 
And how they'll be left all alone ! 

IX. 

'But then," they say, " God is a merciful God, 

And He'll certainly care for them ; 
For when husband and father sinks 'neath the sod, 
He does not chastise with His chastening rod 
The wife and children left to Him." 

X. 

And now, there's a train moving slowly along, 

Following a funeral bier ; 
And the widow and orphans are with the throng. 
And they're singing a mournful funeral song. 

That's sad melody to the ear. 



XI. 

And now, in a grave hollowed, narrow and deep, 

They cover him over with clay ; 
And in that he must sleep the mystical sleep, 
While the soul hovers near and the vigils keep, 

Till the dawn of eternal day ! 

XII. 

And this is the end of life's changeable scheme, 

In which some flaunt but for a day ; 
And this is the end of life's magical dream. 
And this is the end of death's merciless stream, 
Which is bearing us all away ! 



LIFE'S ALLEGORY. 

1879-'80. 

(See Note 16.) 
I. 

I saw a little infant 

Launch out upon life's wave, 
And as he rowed his life -boat 

Still nearer to the grave, 
I asked the little captain 

Why did he not decide 
To be a child forever. 
And e'er in youth abide. 

II. 

He answered : "I'm an infant. 
Life's voyage I've begun ; — 

I must reach the other shore 
Before life's setting sun ; 



LIFE'S ALLEGORY. 91 



And now, the breeze is playing 

In my extended sails,— 
And o'er life's waves I'm wafted, 

Before youth's gentle gales.'' 

III. 

" My rudder is a fixed one. 

And can't be changed by man,— 
So I must steer straight onward. 

Till I run out life's span ; 
LTnless some raging tempest 

Shall plunge me 'neath the wave ; 
Or some mighty cyclone sweep 

Me to a watery grave." 

IT. 

I saw again : A youthful form. 
Was rowing forth to breast the storm. 
In his barque, prepared for pleasure, 
(Which he thought life's greatest treasure ;) 
He liglitly skimmed the placid wave. 
And like the infant, neared the grave. 
The bloom of youth upon his cheek. 
In words defiant seemed to speak ; — 
" The touch of Death I do not fear, 
Nor all his mighty colleigues here ; 
The path of life that I must go, 
I don't, and do not choose to know ; 
]iut while life's morn is still with me, 
I will indulge in pleasures free." 
So he went on his playful way. 
And took no note of night or day ; 
And so I left the laughing boy. 
In tlie midst of all his joy ! 



V. 

I saw aguin : A beardless lad, 
Rowed o,er life's calm and gentle wave : 

In love's bright armour he was clad, 
But ah ! he too, rowed toward the grave ! 

VI. 

His beautiful gondola's prow 

Was wreathed in all the flowers of love; 
And by his side, a maid, whose brow 

Was like an angel's from above. 

VII. 

He pressed her waist, whose charming grace 

Would every sculptor's art defy ; 
Looked long and loving in her face, 

And in her love-lit hazel eye ! 

VIII. 

And Oh ! the words he whisi>ered then, 

And her reply, so sweet and low ; 
Can't be re-told by tongue or pen, — 

For, 'tis a secret, as you know. 

IX. 

I saw again : And a man in his pride. 
Was sailing over life's glittering tide ; 
A garookah he rowed, and by his side. 
Was the lovely form of his fair young bride. 

X. 

Oiir God gives to each some perfect delight, 
To be shielded from shame and sorrow's blight ; 
He vowed tliat his honor, his manly might 
Should defend forever the marriage rite. 



LIFE'S ALLEGORY. 93 



XI. 

And she, his bride, said that she would be true, 
Through all of life's paths that they jiiight pursue; 
AVith rev'rence for God their minds thej^'d imbue, 
And pray that with strength their hearts He'd indue. 

XII. 

They planned, in future that fortune and fame, 
And worldly grandeur would honor a name,— 
That long ere deatli doth extinguish life's flame, 
They will, tlie respect of their fellow-men claim. 

XIII. 

I saw again : And a man in his prime. 
Was sailing o'er life's mid-ocean, for Time 
Had stolen the morning of life away. 
And brought, instead, the mid-hour of the day. 

X I y . 

His good ship carried her sails uuf urled 
To both the calms and storms of the world ; 
A model of strength and beauty was she. 
And nobly she sailed in life's glittering sea. 

XY. 

A wife and motlier, who was once a bride, 
Who was sitting near to lier husband's side, 
'Mid the frightful noise of the ocean's roar. 
With vigor was plying the opposite oar. 

XVI. 

With an even stroke, as they skimmed the tide. 
With an easy grace, as they seemed to ride— 
At every stroke and at every breath, 
They rowed nearer the grave— the bed of death ! 



XVII. 

I saw again : And in the weight of years 
Was then bending liis manly bacli with age ; 

He tallied of lifes joys, cares, hopes, and fears— 
And so wisely reasoned the noble sage ! 

XVIII. 

He told the young how life's rugged path 
Could be strewn with the rose or goading thorn; 

How to cure its ill, how to cool its wrath. 
And, how to meet the cold world's proud scorn. 

XIX. 

He told of the better way in life, 
The good old way that our fathers trod. 

The way which is free from sin and strife. 
The way that leads to Heaven and God. 

XX. 

The last scene I saw— and bowed low with years — 
Was the head of him who was O'lce so young; 

Whose cheeks had been damped by a mother's tears, 
And who'd woo"d a maid with his silv'ry tongue. 

XXI. 

In a second childhood he was, for he 
Had acted through all of life's varied play. 

And he said, " Tliere's nothing now left to me 
But to calmly die, and to pass away !" 

XXII. 

" But why do I fear thy cold touch, O death ! 

When the soul shall dwell in the realms of light? 
Thou canst check this tleeting, wavering breath, 

But with this, ends all thy terrible might." 



CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS. 95 



Death is the awaking, the setting free 

Of the soul from life's short dream, into the 
Grand and glorious realities of eternity ! 



CHILDISH RECOLLECTIONS. 

18S0. 
" Oft does my heart indulge the risimi thought. 
Which still recurs imlookedfor and unsought; 
My soul to fancy^s fond sugyestion yields. 
And roams romantic o'er her airy fields; 
Scenes of my youth developed crowd my view, 
To tchich I long have bade a last adieu ! 
Seats of delight, inspiring youthful themes ; 
Friends lost to me for aye except in dreams; 
Some who in marble prematurely sleep, 
Whose forms I now remember but to iceep ; 
Some who yet urge the same scholastic course, 
Of early science, future fame the source : 
Who, still contending in the studious race. 
In quick rotation fill the senior place ! 
These with a thousand visions now unite. 
To dazzle, though they please m]i aching sight!'" 

— Lord Byron. 

I. 
Every other thought you may take from my mind. 
If you'll leave the dear scenes of sweet childhood behind -, 
On wings of fleet memory my thoughts seem to flee. 
Ear backward to tlie days of my innocent glee 1 

II. 
I was loved by a mother, so young and so fair. 
But time is dimming her eyes and silvering her hair ! 
Blessed thought ! Youthful beauty old time may remove, 
But never can he lessen a mother's pure love ! 



Ill, 

A young father caressed me with thrillings of joy. 
And he called me his " darling " his " baby " his '' boy ;" 
But now, he's like the sun's post meridian ray, 
And just passing the noon of life's short fleeting day! 

IV, 

The spring of affection flows exhaustless and deep, 
For the father and mother wlio loving watch keep 
O'er their boy, who ere long must launch out in the world, 
When the scroll of liis childhood forever is furled ! 

y. 

On my grandfather's knee, that beloved retreat ! 

How often at nightfall have I taken my seat. 

With his pipe in his mouth, and his " specks " on his nose, 

In airiest grandeur he'd my future disclose ! 

VI, 

Then in grandmother's cupboard I often have found, 
Those good things in which all such cupboards abound, 
With a turn of the latch and a pull at the the door, 
Something better I'd find than poetical lore. 

vn. 

Wlien the eve was declining how oft have I played, 
With brothers and cousins in the old kitchen shade ; 
Or down the long hill vve would run to the spring. 
And of its pure waters full buckets we'd bring, 

VIII. 
At Springhill, in the pine-log school-room I'd ponder 
O'er musty old books, and at noon I would wander 
Through field, wood and meadow, beneath the warin beam 
Of the sun, or bathe in the clear, shaded stream. 



IX. 

These scenes are all past, and it brings ns but sadness 
To muse o'er the days of our childhood and gladness ; 
"And it makes us but sigh for the things that are gone, 
To think of the time that forever has flown ! 

X. 

O! sweet Valhermnso ! tliy shadowy w Id wood, 

In which I have spent many day- of my childhood, 

Enchantiiiglv floats o'er my vision to-night. 

Arrayed in the verdure so dear to my sight ! (see Note 17.) 

XI. 

Where is the playmate with whom I liave rambled 
O'er thy green woods, and with whom I have gamboled 
When school was dismissed, upon thy green lawn ? 
Joe, are you thinking of the days that are gone.^ 

XII. 

Full well, through all future life I'll remember 
Our happy young days, imtil the last ember 
Of life's fast-fleeting fires has smothered and died, 
And with life, the ashes of death are allied ! 

XIII. 

And thou, classic shade ! beloved old Strata! 

My noble instructors ! my dear Alma Muter ! 

How can I forget thee ! thy grounds where I've sported ! 

Thy studj'-rooms bright, where oft I've resorted? (see Note is.) 

XIV. 

May fancy's bright touch to my mem'ry restore, 
The yoiuig faces I met there many times o'er ! 
And may I. full oft, with infinite delight. 
Be pleased in sweet fancy wiih them to unite ! 



XV. 

Sweet scenes of past childhood ! you 're gone, and I feel 
That in thoughts you shall dwell through all woe and all weal, 
And I'll look to the future, and hope that it may 
Be filled with lemembrance of youth's happy day ! 

XVI. 

! that I could call you from the grave of the past,. 
For thy spectre shall linger in mem'ry the last ! 
With a pleasure unbound ^d aga'n I'd renew. 

The days of delight that my infancy knew ! 

XVII. 

1 must not forget the few days at Geneva ; 
There first I became an eni'aptured believer 
In the doctrine that all of the beautiful fair, 
Live in a serener and holier air ! 

XVIII. 
Past hours of my youth ! whene'er I recall ye. 
Sweet is the bondage that then doth enthrall me ! 
In future when dark disappointments surround me. 
May scenes of my boyliood come gleaming around me ! 



LIXES TO MISS F. A. C.-OX HER BIRTHDAY. 

1881. 
(See note l.oth.) 

I. 

Her aid may gentle memory lend, 
And truth with busy care attend, 
To make an honest lay. 

II. 

Accept these lines, my dearest friend, 
And with a willing ear attend 

To what the bard may say. 



III. 

TJiis is the guerdon and reward 
Required of thee by the bard, 

For what he'll write today. 

Come, muse of Heaven, and lend inspiring aid 

To sing the praises of Columbia's maid ! 

Sing first, that on a cold and dreary night, 

While dismal clouds obscured the moon's pale light, 

Of youthful years and modest, bashful mien, 

A " Little Stranger " crossed deep ravine; 

Then climbed with toiling steps the stony steep, 

And turned to view the craggy hollow deep, 

And list unto the gurgling waters moan. 

As they leaped madly down from stone to stone. 

Terrified by the grandeur of the scene. 

He glanced and then resumed his walk again. 

He climbed the gate which Fannie 's hand had closed, 

And Avliich now on its hinges deep reposed; 

Fair Fannie then, in Valhermoso's walls, 

Heard a light footstep coming through the halls, 

And then a gentle tapping at the door; 

She oped, a "Little Stranger '' stood before. 

He told his errand in a cliildish style. 

And Fannie heard him with a pleasing smile. 

His errand done, he quickly hied away; 

Said he, " my papa told me not to stay."' 

While going back, through his youthful mind diffused, 

Were many thoughts, and to himself he mused: 

Among these rocks, these shaded dales, 
These lofty trees, tliese lovely vales. 
These noisy streams, these haunted caves, 
In which the moccasin lives and laves; 
These cedar groves, these checker"d shades. 
These narrow dells, these everglades, 



These roaring torrents, and these rills, 
These rngged mountains and these hills; 
O ! who would think a maid could dwell, 
"Whose grace no pen nor tongue can tell ! 
Amid all this grand scenery wild, 
O! who would look for beautj^'s child'? 
But Avhy amazed ! 'Tis thus with all 
Created things, both great and small. 
The sweetest and the coolest draught, 
That mortal man has ever quaffed, 
AV^ithin the bubbling spring was found. 
In forest deep where doth resound, 
From vale to vale and peak to peak. 
The panther's scream and eagle's shriek; 
The darkest hour of gloomy night 
Is always just ere morning's light; 
The greatest intellects of earth, 
Most often come of humble birth; 
Within the jagged mountain side, 
Glittering diamonds oft abide; 
The sweetest fl »wers oft are found 
AVhere worthless plants and weeds abound. 
Thus it is with the inmates fair, 
AVho Valhermoso's blessings share ! 
As in the deserts parched and wild, 
We find oases green and mild; 
So 'mong the rocky hills so high. 
And towering trees that kiss the sky; 
In Alabama's clime so mild. 
Amid her scenery grand and wild, 
A " Vale of Beauty " ever lies, 
Where human woe forever dies; 
Where happiness forever reigns. 
Where gathering cares and poignant pains, 
Are banished by the magic wand 



In happy love's imperial hand; 

In this fresh flower-scented air, 

In this sweet "• Vale " lives Fannie fair ! 

Is this a dream, or have I heen 

To where such lovely maids are seenV 

If it be real, I'll soon know so, 

Then revisit Valhermoso ; 

I must now hurry, 'tis the time 

For rapid haste hut not for rhyme. 
'Twas thus the " Little Stranger's'' thoughts flew by 
As he unto his fatlier's home drew nigh. 
Days chased the weeks, and weeks the months away, 
And "■ Little Stranger " saw the maid each day ; 
Nor did he thus remain a *■' Stranger " long — 
Each day the lovely subject of my song, 
And he, wlio once the name of ''Stranger" wore. 
Became more friendly than the day before. 
They went each day witli slates and books to school, 
And often disobeyed their teacher's rule. 
By laughing, whispering, or thumping papers, 
And by other mischief-making capers. 
Thus winged time flew on day after day, 
From dawn till dark from dark till dawn away; 
Thus in the course of many days, the one 
Of parting saw its golden morning sun. 
The little maiden bade each one ''good-bye," 
With heaving bosom and a tearful eye. 
To prove that in "farewell '" there is a bliss, 
To each she gave a maiden's gift— a kiss; 
I said to each, but no; one she denied, 
'Bout this perhaps the " Little Stranger " cried; 
If not, at least he never did forget; 
Eemembrance of that day is fresh till yet. 
His mind shall ever, while his life shall last, 
Be filled with recollections of the past; 



102 LINES TO MISS F. A. C. 

Fair Fannie's image in his heart shall stay. 
Till death draws near and life fades slow away ! 
Soon iron engines, framed by human hands, 
Conveyed the maiden far from Southern lands; 
And he, the "Little Stranger," shortly hied, 
Beyond the Alabama's rolling tide. 
Distance threw many weary miles between 
Those who friends for a few short months had been. 
Six years of life's bright morn have passed away, 
Still heaven's bright sun shines with unclouded ray, 
But they who once as lad and lass were known. 
To man's full state, and woman's pride have grown; 
And he Avho once of Fannie fair did sing. 
Unto this maid another song doth bring :— 
I. 
The wheels of time so swiftly fly 1 

They've rolled away another year ! 
And if we'll think, we'll breath a sigh. 

And o'er the past we'll shed a tear. 
Because of things we've left undone, 
In moments now forever gone I 

11. 
Another year begins to-day I 

May it prove happier than the last! 
And while you plod life's weary way, 

Improve the futiu'e by the past! 
Improve each day, improve each year, 
Make strangers friends, and these more dear. 

III. 
If you will try to fill the time 

With gentle words, and deeds of love, 
Your life will be tlie true sublime 

Of happiness— and God above 
Will look down with approving smile, 
And love and bless you all the while. 



LINES. 103 



IV. 



May each succeeding birtlulay bring 
Some new-found happiness to thee I 

Some sweeter draught from pleasure's spring, 
Some brighter thought in poetry I 

And when from this vile world you fly, 

Join sister angels in the sky ! 



LINES 



"WRITTEN AFTER HEARING THE BEAUTIFUL SONG BY TOPLADY, 
DELIVERED BY A LOVELY YOUNG LADY AT THE CLOSING 
EXERCISES OF THE STRATA (ALABAMA) HIGH SCHOOL, APRIL 
20, 1880. 

" Bock of ages cleft for me 
Let me hide myself in thee !'' 

—Toplady. 
I. 
From the lips unknown to care. 
Fell the song and poet's prayer — 
"Rock of ages cleft for me. 

Let me hide myself in Thee ! ' ' 
Pleadingly the maiden said, 
As she raised her crowned head, 
" Let the water and the blood. 
From thy riven side which flowed, 
Be of sin the double cure. 
Cleanse from guilt and make me pure ! " 

■JI. 

Her hands she raised toward the skies, 
And upwards cast her tearful eyes : 
" Not the labor of my hands 
Can fulfill the law's demands I " ' 



104 LINES. 



Then the pure lips of the maid, 

In sublimer accents prayed: 

" Could my zeal no respite know, 

Could my tears forever flow, 

All for sin could not atone; 

Thou must save, and Thou alone ! " 

III. 

Trembling through her voice, and slow, 
Flowed the sweet song, smooth and low: 
" Nothing in my hand I bring. 

Simply to Thy cross I cling ! " 
Then, tenderly and urgently, 
Trustingly and fervently, 
" Naked, come to Thee for dress. 

Helpless, look to Thee for grace; 

Foul, I to Thy bosom fly. 

Wash me, Saviour, or I die ! " 

IV. 

Then she said, in sweetest tone, 
As if to the Judgment Throne 
She was hoping soon to come. 
And there find a Heavenly home: 
" While I draw this fleeting breath. 
When my'heartstrings break in death; 
When I soar to world's unknown. 
See Thee on Thy Judgment Throne, 
Rock of ages cleft for me. 
Let me hide myself in Thee ! ' ' 



HOPE, HAPPINESS, HOME AND HEAVEN. 

[1879.] 

These are four as sweet words that our language contains, 

As ever to man AA'ere given ; 
And in each one of these the first letter remains— 

flbpe, iTappiness, Ifome, and iZ^eaven ! 

HOPE. 

" Angel of life, thy glittering icings explore, 
Earth''s loncHest bounds and ocean's wildest shores!'''' 

— T. Campbell. 
I. 

Hope is an anxious, craving dream. 
And lingers here until the Deam 

Of life shall fade away ! 
And in the shining sands that gleam 
Along life's treacherous, bounding stream, 

We trace her name to- day ! 

II. 

How fast upon life's sandy shore, 
Sweet libations to Hope we pour. 

Expecting much to gain ! 
At length Hope Hies— is seen no more, 
Our moment's dream of bliss is o'er. 

She seldom comes again ! 

III. 

How quickly do Hopes morning dreams 
Leave, when the noontide's sunny beams 

Upon our heads do fall ! 
For it is Hope alone that deems 
Our future life with riches teems. 

And tries to grasp them all ! 



106 HAPPINESS. 



lY. 
The hope for Heaven will ever last; 
By it tlie Christian's anchored fast 

Beyond this vale of tears ! 
Then let each one this anchor cast, 
And ho2)e that we'll obtain at last 

A home from earthly cares ! 

V. 

And happy in that land of rest, 
We'll lean npon the Saviour's breast, 

And with him dwell for aye ! 
No more by death to be oppressed. 
No more by sin to be disgraced, 

No more to wear this clay ! 

HAPPINESS. 

" O Happiness! our heing''s end and aim! 
Good, pleasure, ease, content, u'hate''er thy name ; 
That sometMnq still which prompts the eternal sigh, 
For vMch ice hear to live or dare to die!''"' — Pope. 

T 

X. 

Happiness ! greatest boon of earth ! 

In friendship's ties thou had'st thy birth. 

May friendship ne'er decay ! 
We cannot know the real worth 
Of honest friends until their berth 

Is hollowed in the clay ! 

II. 

Happiness ! fill each human breast, 
And show what comfort to be blessed, 

With thy pure light serene ! 
Give them the joy in life that's best. 
Whose 'ceptral power can clear the breast 

Of every poignant pain ! 



HOME. 107 



III. 



Let come what will if Happiness 
Be ours to shield us, dire Distress 

Can never weight us down ! 
Then let each one of us caress 
This blessed angel — Happiness, 

And claim her for his own ! 

IV. 

She'll lead us through earth's joys below, 
That we the bliss of Heaven may know, . 

When life's short dream is o'er; 
And then at I-Am's feet she'll bow. 
And pray that on us He'll bestow 

Happiness forever more ! 

Y. 

If it is happiness we prize. 

Then in each breast the jewel lies, 

And is not known to roam. 
This world has naught for us to prize; 
From our own hearts our joys must rise. 

And from this spot — "Sweet Home." 

HOME. 

^Tis home where the heart is, wherever that he, 

In city, or desert, in mountain or dell, 
Not the grandeur, the number, theohjects we see. 

But that which we love is the magical spell. ''^— Anon. 

I. 

Home's a place where no storms intrude. 
And peace and plenty there doth brood, 
Till life has passed away; 



108 HOME. 



It is the haven, where the good 
May rest at night, when they've withstood 
The trials of a day. 

II. 

A world of Joy, and Peace and Love, 
Close kinsman to that home above, 

Is onr sweet home on earth ! 
Chaste virtue doth within it move, 
But grim vice far from it doth rove, 

Faith lies upon its hearth ! 

III. 

Good order lives within its walls, 
Contentment dwells within its halls, 

Good manners there doth stay. 
Pleasures come to its inmates' calls, 
The beam of truth upon it falls. 

And never fades away ! 

IV. 

We have a better home tlian this, 
"Whose tenants are eternal bliss. 

And pure angelic love; 
These t\s'ain rove through celestial space. 
With no guide, save a father's grace, 

35y which they live and move. 

V. 

This home that's far beyond compare, 
And far beyond this world of care. 

Is building now for you, 
If you a Christian's burdens bear, 
And the toi!s of a Christian share. 

If you continue true ! 



HEAVEK. 109 

HEAVEN. 

''''This world is hut a fleeting show 
For man''s illusion (jiven; 
The smiles of joy, the tears of ivoe. 
Deceitful shine, deceitful flow. 

There's nothing true but Heaven'''' — T. Moore. 
I. 
All men of eai'tli, who live and move, 
Sing of the eternal home of love, 

Where Christ the Savior reigns ! 
Angels in Heaven the song approve, 
And sound it through the courts above, 
And through the Heavenly fanes ! 
II. 
O, for a seraph-noted tongue ! 
O, for a lyre, by angels strung! 

To sing the joys of Heaven; 
But 'tis not left tliis earthly throng, 
Who slaves to sin and death belong, 
To sing the bliss of Heaven. 
III. 
Tf 'tis not left to mortal men, 
^ov th' uninspired poet's pen, 

To tell the joys of Heaven; 

TJnto what earthly being then, 

Who will reveal to sinful men, 

Is this great power given V 

IV. 

In travelling o'er this sinful vale. 
Should you a fellow being fail 

To find, who'll tell of Heaven; 
And you are an inquirer still 
This truth to know, then I will tell 

To whom the power is given, 



110 A FAREWELL.— FOR A" THAT. 



V. 

Go then to lonely Patnios Isle, 
And ask for John, an old exile 

From far off Holy Land ; 
Inquire of him, in whom is guile 
l^Tot found, and lie, with gladsome smile, 

Will tell of Heaven's Land ! 



A FAREWELL. 

WRITTEN ON LEAVING THE STUDENTS OF THE STRATA, ALA- 
BAMA, HIGH SCHOOL, APRIL 20, 1880. 

Sisters and brothers, you do seem to me ! 
I love you with tliat love which alone can, 
Grace, untarnished friendship ! O! would to God 
That we could dwell forever more together, 
And of each other's burdens bear a part ! 
Sisters and brothers, members of the same 
Great family ! We ate at the same board, 
And in one band united we have.dwelt. 
For six long peaceful months, bearing the chance 
And change of time together ! We part now. 
Perhaps, to meet no more. To still remain 
Unseen by one another, until Time, 
Old and grim, shall fold his weary pinions, 
And sink to sleep through all eternity ! 



FOR A' THAT. (See Note 20.) 

A REPLY TO A POEM, BY LIZZIE DOTEN, 1881. 
I. 

If there's a luckless wight on earth 

Oppressed wi' sin and a' that. 
Who holds his sovl as little worth. 

His hame's below for a' that; 



FOR A' THAT. HI 



For a' that, and a' that— 
There's punishment tor a' that; 
He leads a sinf u' life on earth, 
And lands in hell for a' that. 

II. 

The convict slave who drags a chain, 
For murderous deeds and a' that, 

Finds no relief from a' his pain, 
He'll go to hell for a' that; 
For a' that' and a' that — 
His tiendish deeds and a' that; 

The sword of Justice strikes him down, 
And sends him there for a' that. 

III. 

Poor souls ! in right you're unco weak, 
Though Christ has died and a' that— 

He has the power, if Him you'll seek, 
To save your souls from a' that; 
From a' that, and a' that — 
His mercy lasts through a' that. 

And sinners, if they'll turn and mend. 
May come to Heaven for a' that. 

IV. 

But if through all your life you plod 
The paths of sin, and a' that. 

Defy your Saviour and your God, 
You shall be damned for a' that; 
For a' that, and a' that, 
You'll burn in Hell for a' that, 

And he who finds the hell below 
Cannot come back from a' that ! 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF A LITTLE BROTHER. 

WraTTEN October 13, 1877. 
I. 

Chill was the air and loud the blast, 
The night sweet Justus breathed his last; 
Cold was the wind on that bleak day, 
We laid sweet Justus in the clay ! 

II. 

He seemed an angel in his shroud, 
Just come down from the heavenly cloud; 
I touched him — he was cold in Death ! 
I kissed him— there was no sweet breath ! 

III. 

At home in Heaven that mansion fair, 
The bliss of angels he will share; 
And near the throne of God he'll be. 
From all earth's cares and sorrows free I 

IV. 

He'll roam in those Elysian lands, 
With throngs of white angelic bands; 
Always with Christ he'll dwell at home, 
For Christ says " Suffer such to come." 

Y. 

With him I hope to be at last. 
When life's short dream for me has passed; 
And with him sing the Saviour's praise. 
In sweetest of angelic lays! 



LIKES ON THE DEATH OF A LITTLE BROTHER. 
Written December 26, 1879, 

I. 

There's a wound that is bleeding far down in our hearts, 

It was severed by fate in an unguarded time; 
The sweetest treasure of earth so quickly departs, 

Leaving this and soaring to a far better clime. 

ir. 

•O Benja! Sweet Benja! thou art gone to thy rest ! 

In the cold silent grave thy sweet form has been laid; 
Thy pure soul now sleeps secure on Jesus' own breast, 

A crown of gold and a harp for thee have been made. 

III. 

What joy 'twould have given us, if thou hadst been spared. 
For a few years longer to have lingered on earth ! 

This life's sweetest pleasures with us to have shared, 
Before falling asleep in Death's dark, dismal berth! 

IV. 

But now tliou art in Heaven, that land of delight. 
Where no sorrows of earth are permitted to come ! 

Thou dost now dwell with Justus, so pure and so bright, 
And in fields Elysian thou forever wilt roam! 



A TRIBUTE TO "UNCLE SAMMIE" JORDAN. 

1881. 

I. 
The old church bell is slowly ringing, 

In mourf ul tones its echoes fall. 
As to and fro 'tis slowly swinging, 

While in the church there rests a pall ! 



114 LIFE'S CLOSE. 



II. 

Death claims another for his own, 
And Heaven receives an angel more; 

A father and a friend lias gone 
To rest on tliat eternal shore ! 

III. 

From earthly toils, from human cares, 
From woes which in this world abound; 

Which every weary mortal bears, 
He rests till that great trump shall sound ! 

iv. 

Then in the first great resurrection, 
He'll rise a victor o'er the grave ! 

Who here to God was all subjection, 
In Heaven will sing His power to save ! 

V. 

Sons and daughters, live to meet him, 
Where Death and Sorrow are no more ! 

So live on earth tliat you may greet him, 
Upon bright Heaven's celestial shore ! 



LIFE'S CLOSE. 

1880. 
I. 

My father, you've been long in crossing life's vale. 

But your journey will very soon end; 
You've withstood the battle, the storm, and the gale, 

And with Life, Death must very soon blend ! 



W HEN A BAREFOOT LADDIE I WANDERED. 115 



II. 

My father, why fearful to leave eai'th behind^ 

When Heaven so much better must be? 
You're old and feeble, disfigured and blind. 

Does this life possess charms for thee? 

III. 
He answers, "Son, life's a great burden to me, 

Since I've grown so decrepit and numb, 
But 'tis natural, my son, to wish to be 

On the merciful side of the tomb !" 

ly. 

"Son, now heed the last injunction I'll give, 

'•Prepare to meet thy God in the skies;'' 
On earth thy old father can no longer live;" 

And then calmly he expires, he dies. 

V. 

His body is laid in the cold silent grave, 

While his spirit is borne far above; 
With the just ones, whom Christ through love died to save, 

He will sing of His wonderful love ! 



WHEN A BAREFOOT LADDIE I WANDERED. 
Written in 1880. 
I. 
When a barefoot laddie I Avandered 
O'er the rooks of North Alabam', 
And bathed in the waters that slumbered 

'Neath the lovely smiles of the calm 
Silver moon — unconscious of fear, 
Rough as tlie rocks and free as the deer, 
No feelings, save one, were dear unto me, 
And that, dear Fannie, was centered in thee! 



II. 

At early morn I rose with the sun. 
And off to the mountains I hied ; 

No friends along, save my dear old gun, 
And my wee li)laclv dog by my side ; 

O'er tlie hills as I bounded along. 
E'er and anon I heard a bird's song; 

But all feeling, save one, were dead to me. 

And that, dear Fannie, was centered in thee ! 

III. 

In Cotaco's stream I rode the waves, 

At eve when fish had ceased to bite; 
When squirrels had found their hiddgn caves, 

And other game had slunk from sight ; 
Although I sported with boyish glee, 
These sportings contained few joys for me, 
.For all feelings, save one, were lost to me, 
And that, dear J'annie, was centered in thee! 

IV. 

And now as I'm thinking o'er the past. 

These years seem but a summer's day ; 
Since among those scenes I loitered last. 

Time's passing on fleet wings away ! 
Five years have placed me beyond eighteen. 
And us many miles have thrown between ; 
But one feeling still there is left to me, 
And that, dear Fannie, is centered in thee I 



POETRY. 

1879. 

I. 

Nature, in all thy works I see, 
Th' inspiring soul of poetry ! 



POETRY. 117 

II. 

All life would be a blank to me, 
If I could read no poetry ! 

III. 

What would the roar of ocean be, 
If it possessed no poetry y 

VI. 

The earth a wilderness would be, 
If not filled up with poetry ! 

ly. 

Sweet Love would fly far, far away, 
If he could breathe no poetry ! 

VI. 

The mock-bird soon would cease his glee. 
If not inspired by poetry ! 

VII. 
'Twould seem old Time had ceased to be, 
If checked the flow of poetry ! 

VIII. 

Half the sweets from the flowers would flee, 
If for them were no poetry ! 

IX. 

The sun a burning flame would be. 
If destitute of poetry ! 
X. 
The moon would lose its silver ray, 
If cozened out of poetry ! 

XI. 

Each star would from her presence flee, 
If tliey could chant no poetry ! 




XII. 

Each rain would be a drowning sea, 
If we could have no poetry ! 

XIII. 

The Muse forever, would be free' 
If not chained down by poetry ! 

XIV. 

Dead would poor Rhyme forever be, 
If there could be no poetry ! 

XV. 

The women would always idle be. 
If man could print no poetry ! 

XVI. 

O ! what were life's dull hours to me, 
Without the aid of poetry ! 



THE SOUTHERN SIREN. 

WRITTEN FOIi A YOUNG MAN WHO HAD BEEN JILTED. 
18S0. 
I. 
Thou browned-eyed siren of the South ! 
I loved you ! but, alas ! in vain ! 
My doom is sealed ! Thy rosy mouth 
Hath sealed it! O my soul ! the pain 
That now doth fill my heart and brain ! 

11. 

O love ! weave not thy fettered chain 
Around my poor forsaken heart ! 
Alas ! I call on Love in vain ! 
He stings me, and will not depart, 
Nor withdraw his quivering dart ! 



TO A FRIEND AT PARTING. 119 



III. 

Neither can I Love's chain throw off, 
Nor his flavored nectars borrow; 
"• No ! " he says with a sneering scoff 
"Wlien asked to depart: my sorrow 
Then, must grow witlf eacli to-morrow ! 

IV. 

Cold friendship has within her eyes 
No beams to Icindle in the heart 
That feeling which returned Love buys, 
And which though chilled, cannot depart, 
But dwells forever in the heart ! 

V. 

To love and not be loved again ! 
O! Heaven! what sad emotions rise! 
While in our bosom dwells a pain 
That brings the tear-drops to our eyes, 
And changes all our smiles to sighs ! 



TO A FRIEND AT PARTING. 

1879. 
I. 
As we sail o'er life's rugged sea 
And meet with those who are fond and dear. 
Keep in your heart a place for me, 
As when to each other we were near. 

II. 

Let us look forward to the time 
"When earthly cares shall be laid away; 
And live that we may reach that clime, 
Where we may live and love for aye ! 



LINES TO A yOU:^G LADY, ON HER BIRTHDAY. 

1881. 
I. 
Time flies ! and never stops to scan 
The feeble works of mortal man ! 
Nor takes he heed upon whose brow 
He furrows with his hidden plow, 
And though he's swept another year 
From off bis wings, and you're more near 

The blissful ports of Heaven! 
Thy lovely brow is not bereft 
Of beauty, but the more is left 

Than to thee first was given. 

II. 

Time, partial time, adds heavy care 
To some hearts, unto some despair; 
But thine so full of life and glee, 
He leaves an angel spirit free ! 
The present moments can but last 
To sing the dirge of moments past, 

And welcome those to come ! 
Sweet life is short, improve it well. 
So after death that you may dwell 

In that eternal home I 



WRITTEN ON A ELY-LEAF OF -BURNS' POEMS." 

1881. 
I. 
Spirit of immortal Burns descend. 

And elevate my muse ! 
To me his untold genius lend, 
In mine his soul infuse. 



ON A BLANK LEAF OF POPE'S POEMS. 121 

II. 

Upon me his mantle softly lay, 

That I may like him write; 
But to praise a fairer land to-day, 

Than ever blessed his sight ! 

III. 

This Union strong is the land I "d praise, 

And of this Union sing; 
Could I but imitate the lays 

Of Scottish bards, the king ! 

IV. 
Thou art now at rest, O noble Burns ! 

From earthly joy and care, 
And while for thee man daily mourns, 

For thee I breathe a prayer, 

V, 

Call him, O God, like a wanderer home. 

To that sweet rest above; 
For on vile earth he loathed to roam; 

Death was his sable love ! (See Note 21.) 



WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF "POPE'S POEMS." 

1880. 
I. 
O ! that I could sing like immortal Pope, 

And like him be ruled by the muse's fire ! 
This is my greatest, fondest, dearest hope, 
And to be great like him my chief desire ! 
II, 
Then let it be my chief delight, to drink 

Deep from the fount where knowledge freely flows. 
And in the dark still hours of night, to think 
Of wisdom's gem that in this fountain glows. 



WEITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF OF "COLERIDGE'S 
POEMS," AFTER READING IT THROUGH AND 
NOT FINDING 'THE MORNING HYMN TO MOUNT 

BLANC." (See Note 22.) 

1879. 

I. 

Mountain poet ! tliey'vefrom thy book withdrawn, 
Thy noblest, grandest and sublimest .song! 

And thus into oblivion's night liave thrown 
That fame which to thee justly doth belong! 

11. 

In pencil lines thy "-Morning Hymn" we'll trace, 
That thou didst sing while on Chamouni's base; 
For thus thy fame should be as fresh to-day. 
As when thou first didst sing "Blanc's Morning Lay," 

III. 

O ! would we in each book could write it down, 
It lifts the heart to write it in our own ! 
From things of earth our thoughts are borne above, 
To fit conceptions of the God of love ! 



WRITTEN ON A BLANK LEAF IN " BITTER SWEET," 
A POEM BY J. G. HOLLAND. 

1881. 
I. 
This life to us is what we make it. 

Its pleasures and its pains are fleet — 
When youth and beauty once forsake it. 
We'll find life has its "Bitter Sweet." 



ACROSTICS. 123 



II. 

Each has the power, if he'll but use it, 
To drive grim sorrow in retreat; 

And if in life 'vV'e'll not abuse it, 
We can thus make each "Bitter, Sweet." 

III. 

When to a better world we're Hying, 
Our God and loved ones tliere to meet ; 

We'll find a painful bliss in dying, 
For death, too, has its "Bitter Sweet." 

IV. 

But in that happy home above us. 
Where we our earthly friends may greet; 

The whole angelic host will love us. 
And Heaven will have no "Bitter Sweet." 



ACROSTIC. 

1878. 
O ! noble tree; thou art tlie best ! 
All others bow beneath thy crest ! 
King, sovereign of the forest ! 



ACROSTIC, 

1879. 
Love hath bright pinions on which we fly 
Amid the sweets in joy's cloudless sky ! 
Could Love have pinions on which to go, 
Over the fathomless depths of woe r' 
While love is a star in sorrow's night, 
Love shines with pure and glad'ning light ; 
Eternal flame ! which from Heaven did stray. 
Some beacon that shines on our earthly way ! 



124 ACROSTICS. 



ACROSTIC. 

1880. 

My lot is cast among cold hearts, 

And I am all alone I 
Turn Fortime's wheel, a friend departs. 

Turn back, one more is gone ! 
I have one friend who'll not retreat, 

E'en though all others fail, 
In winter's cold, nor summer's heat, 

Nor leave me in death's vale ! 
Go where you will in this wide sphere, 

Roam round and round again ; 
And you will find the women here, 

Much better friends than men ! 



ACROSTIC. 

1880. 

Much time did Moore spend in the by-gone days, 
In wooing the girls with his innocent lays : 
So I've looked througli his writings— every word. 
Seeing nothing that with my thoughts accord, 
Embracing the boys, young Cupid, my king, 
Unto thee a homespun poem I'll bring, 
To say that ' ' I love ' ' does but feebly portray, 
In my bosom the passion that's burning; 
Ever will thine image in this heart stay. 
Growing daily, in slumbers returning. 
All for thee I've lived the life that is past. 
To thee my present thoughts are belonging; 
Ever will I be thine, until dies the last 
Sound that for me some day'll be gouging ! 



ACROSTIC. 

1880. 

My poor heart will be safe in thy keeping, 

In sorrow and pain, as well as in glee ; 
Smiling, sorrowing, waking, or sleeping. 

Safe my heart when 'tis trusting in thee ! 
Juvenile smiles are often beguiling. 

Eyes can beam with a love that is feigned ; 
Some mouths are sour that ever are smiling, 

Sad hearts are oft in calm bosoms contained, 
In mine you'll find naught save pure love for thee, 

Ever living and flowing full and free ! 
Beauty and grace and contentment are thine. 

Unclouded by pain and sorrow thy brow. 
Remorseless fears at the present are mine ; 

'Tis the love that I must express for thee now 
Over my bosom this fearfulness throws, 
Nor lets my lips speak what these lines should disclose. 



WRITTEN IN MY AUTOGRAPH ALBUM. 

1881. 

In this, dear friend, before we part, 
Write down the wishes of thy heart ; 
If thou for me dost truly crave 
The joys of life unto the grave. 
Or if thou wouldst remembered be, 
Then write it down " Remember me," 
Some word or line to cheer nie on 
O'er life's dark wave till life be gone ; 
Then may we both be anchored fast, 
Within the vale of rest at last ! 



WEITTEN^ IN A YOUNG LADY'S ALBUM. 

188L 
L 
Upon this page of purest white, 
A short memento will I Avrite, 
That you may not forget that lie 
Who wrote it still remembers thee. 

IL 

Our lives are like this book of thine, 
Our days are like its leaves employed, 

In some are deeds and thoughts sublime, 
Some only fill an empty void. 

III. 

Would that each day could well be spent. 
And idle thoughts we could remove ; 

That we could change the time that's blent 
With sorrow, into thoughts of love ! 



YOUTH. 

1878. 

I. 

When youth with all its fond endearments, 

Is slowly giving place to riper age. 
Pine not for its dear sweet attachments, 
But tend the duties of matron and sage. 

II. 

Remember, youth is only seed-time. 
And every one must reap what he's sown ; 

And life's harvest will come in due time 
AVhen the happy hours of youth have flown. 



THE REASOX WHY HE QUIT HIS WIFE. 

18S1. 
I. 
Truth is a gift from Heaven above, 
And so are Gentleness and Love; 
And Grace and Virtue also come, 
Down from the same celestial home; 
Contentment is from worlds divine, 
And Beauty shares witli Love his shrine; 
And Hope and Happiness divide 
The throne where all the re*t preside; 
And these nine are tlie real Xine, 
And to the poets don't confine 
Their blessings, but diffuse them free, 
To all the human famil,y ! 
But we find on Nature's chart. 
They frequent most a woman's heart. 

II. 

I met a maid whose gentle breast. 

Was in sweet unison possessed 

By this blessed three times three. 

Who seemed like sisters to agree; 

I went to see her o'er and o'er. 

The more I went I loved the more; 

And I was well assured that she 

A gentle loving wife would be; 

And though there's none that's perfect quite, 

I thought I'd found perfection's height; 

So with the songs of Moore and Byron, 

I did her girlish heart environ ; 

Many a long cold winter's night, 

I've courted her by candle-light; 

And ere six months had passed away, 

The sun rose on our wedding dav ! 



128 THE KEASON WHY HE QUIT HIS WIFE. 



III. 

The sun of Fortune seemed to smile 
Upon us for a little while; 
Soon a cloud of disputations, 
Overcast its corruscations; 
And such another time we had ! 
I got vexed, and my wife got mad ! 
A great clan from the lower world, 
Came rushing up with flag unfurled. 
And planted in her heart a fort, 
Eight in front of the Nine's great court; 
And such a battle was there waged ! 
For several days they were engaged, 
In a rough and tumble hand to hand. 
Much worse than any in the land ! 

lY. 

Anger, Fury, Scold, and Fight, 
Fell to killing the Nine outright; 
Fret with a whine drove off Content, 
Then Grace and Gentleness also went; 
Scold gave Happiness such a fright. 
She rose and flew clean out of .«ight; 
Fight scratched out the eyes of Beauty, 
Anger then, to do liis duty. 
Raised his club his head above, 
And gave a blow to harmless Love; 
Then Lie, who looks so sleek and smooth. 
Slipped in and choked beloved Truth; 
And Virtue almost wished tliat she. 
Could fly from all this misery; 
So she sneaked off into a corner. 
And soon forgot she had an owner; 
And all alone was left poor Hope, 
Her way with Grief and Sin to grope; 



THE KEASON^ WHY HE QUIT HIS WIFE. 129 



And I couldn't tell to save my life, 
What was the matter with my wife; 
She sent a swarm of accusations, 
Mixed up with loud ejaculations. 
Eight at my poor irreverent head, 
'Till I most Avished that I was dead; 
I turned, so that I could address her, 
But didn't ask the gods to bless her. 

Y. 

She tore off in a heat of passion, 
In a most disgusting fashion. 
And said, " I wish that I had died, 
Ere to a monster I was tied. 
Who treats me like I was a dog; 
Or, worse than he'd treat any hog ! 
I'm going right now back to Pa's, 
Where I was born, and where I was, 
When this most horrid, hateful, mean, 
Most ugly, lantern-jawed, and lean. 
Contemptible old fortune hunter, 
Found me one pretty day last winter ! 
Oh ! what a little fool was I, 
To think he could not tell a lie ! " 

YI. 

When she had finished what I've said, 
She started at full speed ahead. 
Toward her father's, with a pack 
Of woman's dry-goods on her back ! 
And just as sure as you are born 
I felt as if I'd " stole the corn !" 
I called and said, " You'd better come 
Back to your happy peaceful home ! " 
But no, sir! she was out of hearing, 
And very fast was disappearing ! 











130 OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD.— Etc. 






And then I said, " Go ! loose bird, go ! 




I, 


13 ut I didn't think you'd treat me so, 




ll 


I thought you'd he a gentle wife, 






Who'd love and pet me all my life; 






But I don't care, so ''pull the mailP^ 




:| 


Living alone will k.eep me hale ; 




5 


'Or, at least. I can live at ease- 






Go where I will, do as I please ! 




; 


.And this is M'hy I quit the wife. 






Who was the torment of my life. 




^ 


OVERCOME EVIL WITH GOOD. 

1880. 

I. 
If it were mine the power to wield, 










Over land and over Hood, 






I'd give to man this as a shield, 






" Overcome evil tcith (jood.'''' 






II. 






The remnant of earth's truly great, 






Whose power has long withstood 






The siege of Sin, the blows of Hate, 






'''•■Overcome evil with good.'''' 






MERCY'S PLEA FOR MA]^. 






1878. 






When mercy spoke to plead for man, 






The sword of Justice fell; 






Jehovah listened to her plan. 






And raised poor man from hell ! 











XmES WRITTEIS^ ON THE BLANK LEAF OF A BOR- 
KOWEl) BOOK. 

1S81. 
Kind friend, tlie lines that encumber this page, 
Although are unfit th}'- thoughts to engage, 
Are penned with the hope that my name will be, 
Through weal and through woe,unforgotten by thee! 



TO A YOUNG LADY READING POETRY. 

1879. 

I. 

While drinking deep hi grandest lore, 

Of greatest poets in days of yore, 
T)on''t forget the self -same passion. 

Which then ruled them is still the fashion. 

II. 

The men can love as truly now, 
The girls can make as sweet a vow. 

As " Maid of x\thens '' could of yore, 
Or "Helen," who loved long before. 



Dear, 



EGO AMO TE. 

To Miss . 1878. 

I. 

Friendship is too cold. 

Esteem is too old, 

Adore is too bold; 
Passion is not calm, 
And Like has no balm, 
My Regards no charm; 

Then let's change its name, 
It will do no harm. 



132 LOVE UNRETURl^ED. 



If 



And, 



II. 

You can't find a word, 

That's nice to be heard, 

By the finest bird, 
Take some pretty name, 
Which from Heaven came, 
To which there's no blame, 

And call it by that, 
'Twill be all the same. 

III. 

Now fearing you'll find 
Eew words of this kind, 
I've made up my mind 
To give one to thee 
That'll suit thee and me, 
And everybody ; 
And it is just this — 
"'■Ego amo teP' 



LOVE UNEETUENED. 

1879. 



Oh. cruel fate ! and can it be. 

That all that's dear to me is lost? 
Is there no one who cares for me. 

Among all earth's vmnumbered host? 

II. 

A wanderer on Life's sandy shore, 
I hw left in this cold world alone ! 

Alone to roam forever more ! 
Who cares for me? Who loves me? JSfonel 



III. 

The one to whom I gave my heart, 

Has firmly said, '■'■ Iloie you not!'''' 
Can thought-; of her from me d(>part? 

Can her sweet smiles e'er be forgot? 
IV. 
So long as life to me is given. 

My love shall still undying be! 
And if there can be love in Heaven, 

And I go there, 111 still love thee! 
V. 
" Friendslnp ! " Oh, how cold that word, 

To hearts that love so true a-; mine ! 
'Tis much too cold to be uttered 

By lips so sweet and pure as thine ! 

VI. 

Oh, cruel fate ! and can it be. 
That all to me is lost that's dear? 

There is no one who cares for me ! 
I'm doomed to he a vxmderer licre! 

FIRST LOVE. 

18S0. 
I. 
I'll say that thou has fully won 

This simple, boyish heart of mine; 
Of all things else beneath the air, 
I'd have my life entwined with thine. 

II. 

Though young, my heart has learned'to love, 
As fondly as those older grown; 

And vows from me to thee, will prove 
As true as Moses' laws on stone. 



III. 

Then when I tell you that I love, 
Yon are to me of all most dear, 

In earth below or Heaven above. 
Will yon be made this vow to hear V 

IV. 

1 know that we are yet quite young 
To talk of love and future state; 

But who can stay the wayward tongue 
When ruled by Cupid's charming fate ? 

V. 

But fearing that you'll think I'm full 
Of common "one-horse " poetry, 

I'll stop now soon, for 'twill be dull 
To read, but ne'er to write of thee ! 

VI. 

But now before I cease this song. 
And since the fearful die is cast, 

I'll tell thee— but not to prolong — 
Thou are my first love and my last I 



THOUGHTS or THE HEART. 

1880. 
T. 
Could all the thoughts that lie suppressed 
Of thee, concealed within this breast, 
Be laid open and brouglit to light. 
In wonder you'd behold the sight ! 




Thine image, first of all so fair, 
With rosy cheeks and liowing hair- 
Within this heart you would behold, 
More firmly fixed than love for gold ! 

III. 

Then next you'd view Love's bounteous store, 
E'en more than Paiis had of yore, 
For Helen ; although it is said 
That he for her to battle sped. 

IV. 

The next thing that you'd view I trow, 
Would be fond Hope, with anxious glow; 
Even now in my breast he dwells. 
And my heart witli emotion swells ! 

V. 

He thinks you very shortly will 
Command him to " be calm," '' be still ; " 
For he expects a word to come 
From you, and drive him to his home ! 

VI. 

The;j do not fool the little sprite, 
For he will rave with all his might ; 
"And I'll be mad, and raving too, 
Mad, my girl, witli love for you ! " 



THE LAST FAKEAVELL. 

AVRTTTEX AFTEK READIKG A STORY OF THE DEEP. 

1881. 
Goodnight, my little love, "tis growing late, 

The small u-ec hours of morn are drawing near; 
Each living creature, with its gentle mate. 

Has sunk to rest, and all the sounds we hear 
Come from nocturnal bugs, that change the night 

To day, and day to night, so every hour 

"While darkness lasts, that they may serenade thy bower. 

II. 

But O ! My little love, do grant me this 
Before we part — perhaps to meet no more — 

To press upon thy lips one fervent kiss, 
And Avhile I sleep, I'll dream it o'er and o'er ! 

And think the pleasure is renewed again: 
While tossed upon Life's cold and stormy sea, 
'Twill be a sweet memento of the past and thee. 
III. 

I go to ride old Ocean's stormy wave, 
So now, farewell, my darling little love I 

If in its bosom I should find a grave, 

Then may the arm of Him, who from above 

Kules this cold world, take care of thee and thine. 
Cause thy pure life full happy e'er to be, 
And with thine every act, His mighty will agree ! 

IV. 

But now, farewell I if you can bide the time 

That must elapse before I come again 
From that far-distant, wealthj% Southern clime, 

To which I go across the mighty main; 
Then I will claim thee for my bonny bride, 
And all the wealth and luxury shall be thine. 
And O ! a jewel far more precious shall be mine ! 



r Jl W jr .< JA -^ 



W^^^rm^ 



WH 



NOTES AND APPENDIX. 






KOTES AXD APPENDIX. 

ISSl. 

"It is one thing to write \vliat may please our friends, who, 
because they are such, are apt to be a little biased in our favor; 
and anotlier to write what will please everybody. Because they 
M'ho have no connexion, or even knowledge of the author, will 
be sure to find fault if they can." — Coivpcr. 

It is far from our purpose to ]ilease everybody, in the i)rece(l- 
ing pages. After reading this little book, if you conclude that 
the author deserves any credit whatever, let this countei'balance 
his many faults. In some of the essay's as well as poems, I have 
not aimed at exclusive originality ; but this will be treated 
more fully further on in this Appendix. The reader must re- 
member that tlie greater portion of these effusions were written 
on given subjects. AVhen a writer has the privilege of selecting 
any subject that he may desire, he is nn:)re apt to choose one 
with wliicli he is familiar, than if his heading is named by another. 
The most successful efforts of the greatest writers are upon 
themes of their own selection. Take, for example. Byron's 
■•' Childc Harohrs Pil(jrimage,^'' which is written in that de- 
servedly famous and "grand Spenserian stanza. I consider liis 
"Apostrophe to the Ocean,'' the last nine stanzas, save two, of 
the last canto, the sublimest jioetry in the English language ; 
and especially this stanza :— 

" Roll on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll ! 
Ten thousand tleets vSweep over thee in vain ! 
Man marks the earth witli ruin— his control 

Stops with the shore— upon the watery plain 
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor dotli remain 
The shadow of maifs ravage, save his own, 
When for a moment, like a (Irop of rain, 
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 
AVithout a grave, unknelled, nncotrmed, and unknown ! " 

But I desist. It is with very few hopes, slight expectations, 
and many fears that I expose my first effort, and perhaps my 
last, to the censure, and criticism of the world. " A Ecforma- 
iion Needed Amomj the Yoanq Men of Uic Soutlu^' " The Journey 
of Life,''' "-Hope,'' ''■Home','' '■'Life's Close." ••• A Tribute to 
'■ Vnde Sammic" Jordan," '•'Death," and •'■Lines to Jliss F. 
A. C. on Her Birthday," have been printed in the newspapers 
before; and some of the others Avill be before this book is ready 
for distribution. 



As I said in the outset, I do not claim exclusive originality 
in all of the pieces herein contained; tor, as Byron says, "To 
produce anything entirely new, in an age so fertile in literature, 
would be an hprculean task, as every subject has already been 
treated to its fullest extent." And Solomon says, "The thing 
that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done, 
is that which shall be done; and there is no new thing under 
the sun." 

Wlienever T have knowingly imitated or borrowed, I have 
put it in quotation marks, or will mention it in these notes, 
and, in some instances, both. AVhen this is not the case, and 
there appears a coincidence with other authors, it is not because 
I intended it so. Of all the sins that a scribbler can be guilty, 
I think plagiarism the blackest. Then please do not accuse me 
of it until you have ascertained to a certainty that the accusa- 
tion will be a just one. Now, gentle reader, I invite you to 
notice the following ''Notes," as that will, perhaps, clear me of 
false accusations, and aid you in understanding some of these 
"Essays" that could not otherwise be interesting to you. The 
prose compositions would not have been inserted, but, as I 
stated in the beginning of this book, this volume is published 
more for the pleasure of my school-mates and young friends, 
than any one else, and as tliey are already familiar with some 
of these prose essays, I have inserted them because they, or 
some of them at least, have requested it. 



NOTES. 

ISSl. 

Note 1.— Prof. E. II. lionham, the author of tlie introduc- 
tion to this volume, was a student, and class-mate with the 
writer, in the Strata, Ala., High School; he was also a teacher 
in the same school, and is now teaching in the State of Texas. 
He is a young man of superior intellectual endowments, and 
of unblemished and unwavering character. He is also a 
preacher of the gospel, and Avlierever he may be to-day he is 
endeavoring to do some good for his Master's cause. 

Note 2.— At the time these letters were .written, intemper- 
ance, prohibition and reform were the prinei]ml topics in the 
county newspapers in this part of Alabama, and the author being 
a '• squib-writer " at the time, thought it no intrusion to have 
a say so. We are indebted to the Kev. Dr. C. H. Fowler, in 
IJeadle's Temperance Speaker, for the statistics contained in 
Letter No. 4. 



NOTES. 141 



Note 3. — The beautiful poetical quotations used in this essay 
are from Derzhaven's " Ode to God," which is one of the finest 
pieces of expression that it has been my pleasure to peruse. It 
is originally Russian, but hasbeen translated in all the European 
languages. The stanza at the close of the essay is the first of 
the poem. 

Note. 4. — Each student was required to write an essay on 
this subject, and to tell everything that happened during 
Cliristmas, in liis own peculiar style and language. Although 
these "' essay readings " were private, spectators would often 
come in to hear what was said. 

Note 5. — In this spelling match the young ladies occupied 
one side of the house and the young gentlemen tlie other. The 
"• captain ' ' on the ''boys' side " is here called BonhUn Masculus, 
because 3fnsculus means male, and he was from the little village 
of Doul)lin, in Montgomery county. The "captain" on the 
"girls" side" is called Queen Femina^ because femina means 
femah. 

Note 6.— The "favor" spoken of in this essay, was that we 
wished to accompany some of the young ladies (school girls) to 
the party, but as it was against the rules. Prof. Barnes would 
not grant us the inivilege to do so. There was a young lady 
living in the neighborhood who was very " verdant " in her 
manners and conversation, and who w^as the " laughing-stock " 
of the whole school ; and Prof. B. said that I had his permission 
to go over and accompany her to the party if I wislied to "play 
the beau." Not caring to be " bluffed oif " in quite such an 
easy manner, I immediately availed myself of tliis opportunity, 
and could therefore boast that I had accomi)anie(l one of the 
"fair" sex to the party, of which pleasure all of the other boys 
were deprived. 

Note 7.— The statistics, concerninsr the length of life in this 
address, are given by Dr. O. Phelps Brown, lately deceased, of 
Jersey City, N. J. He is regarded by my father, and all other 
physicians with whom I have conversed on the subject, as first- 
class authority on this point. 

Note 8. — Byron's "Don Juan" commences as follows: 

"I want a hero; .an uncommon want. 

When every year and month sends forth a ncAV one 
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant, 
The age discovers he is not the true one," &c. 



142 NOTES. 



Note 9. — This stanza is taken from Byron's "Don Juan." 
(See canto I, stanza ccxxi.) I hfive changed the seventh line 
a little from the original. Byron has it — 

"Your patience further than by this short sample." 

Note 10. — Sneeuwhergen is a settlement on the Cape of Good 
Hope, in Africa. 

Note 11.— Dryden has it— 

•'So chanticleer who never saw a fox, 
Yet shunned him as the sailors shun the rocks.'' 

Note ]2.— Allusion is made to the text of Scripture which 
excluded drunkards from the kingdom of Heaven, "Nor 
thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extor- 
tioners shall Inherit the kingdom of God." (I Cor. chapter vi, 
verse 10.) 

Note 13. — By "Elder Brother" is here meant Jesus Christ. 
As "Christ was before the world was," he is, therefore, older 
than Adam, who was the "second man" or younger son of God. 

Note 14.— The first stanza of the "'Epilogue" is taken from 
Bja-on's "Hon Juan." (See canto IV, stanza t.) 

Note 15. — I am not going to be guilty of plagiarism if I know 
it. I have not borrowed any in this stanza, "or the one above; 
but after reading them over carefully, I concluded that a little 
similarity existed between them and the last stanza of tlie 
fourth canto of the "Childe HarokVs Pilgrimage," and fearing 
that some one else might see it as I do, I thought it best to 
mention it. 

Note 16.— In this composition, I beg the indulgence of tlie 
reader more than, perliaps, in any other one of this collection. 
It was written at a comparatively early date, and I had not 
made up my mind to insert it until I had almost finished writ- 
ing my manuscript. 

Note 17. — Valhermoso Springs are situated in Morgan 
county, Alabama, eighteen miles^ above Decatur, on the south 
side of the Tennessee river, two miles from the landing. The 
scenery connected with the place is grand and beautiful in the 
extreme. 

A cliarming description of the Springs and surroundings may 
be found in the beautiful poems left by the late lamented Col. 
J. J. Giers, of Washington, D. C. 



NOTES. 143 



XoTE 18.— Strata is situated in Montg-omery county, Alabama, 
and lias for many years been tbe seat of the renowned Strata 
High Sciiool, of wliich Prof. J. M. ]?arnes has always acted as 
principal and head teacher. His school is now situated at 
Rocky Mount, Crenshaw county. 

Note 19.— "Miss F. A. C.,'' at tlie time this poem was writ- 
ten, resided in Washington. D. C. She is therefore called "Co- 
lumbia's Maid." She was spending tiie summer at Valhermoso 
when. 1 became acquainted with her. In this poem a descrip- 
tion of the beautiful scenery around A'alhermoso is feebly at- 
tempted, but the j/oei falls far short of doing justice to tlie sub- 
ject. A'alhermoso means '• Beautiful Valley,"' or ''^ale of 
Beauty." 

Note 20.— This is a reply to a poem once recited by Miss 
Lizzie Doten, a spirit medium trance speaker, wiio claimed to 
be influenced by the spirit of Robert Burns. It is true that the 
poem is somewhat in the style of Burns, but this does not prove 
that the spirit of Burns had anything more to do witli it than 
did Mrs. Ilemans' spirit with— • 

'^ The mule stood on the steamboat deck." 

But here is Miss Doten's production just as it w-as printed in 
her book, "Poems Prom the Inner Life." 

'TOR A' THAT." 

[The following poem was given imder the inspiration of Rob- 
ert Burns.] 

I. 

Is there a luckless wiglit on earth, 

Oppressed wi" care and a' that, 
Who liolds his life as little worth, 

His liome is Heaven for a' that— 

For a' that and a' that. 

There's muckle joy for a' that; 
He's seen the worst o' hell below, 

His home is Heaven for a" that. 

II. 
The weary slave tliat drags his chain. 

In toil and grief and a' that. 
Shall find relief from a' his pain, 
• And rest in Heaven for a' that. 



144 NOTES. 



From a' that and a' that. 
There's freedom there from a' that, 
For justice throws into the scale, 
A recompense for a' that. 

III. 

Puir souls, in ri.o'ht not unco strong, 

Tlirough love and want and a' that, 
There sure is power to riglit their wrong, 

And save their souls from a' that — 

For a' that and a' that. 

The Lord is gnid for a' that; 
The de'il himsel' can turn and mend, 

And come to Heaven for a' that. 

IV. 

On Scotia's hills the gowans spring; 
The heather blooms. and a' that; 
• The mavis and the merle sing. 

But Heaven's my liome for a' that — 
For a' that and a' that. 
I wadna change for a" tliat. 
He who once finds the Heaven above, 
Will not come back for a' that. 

Note 21. — In this last stanza allusion is made to the eleventh 
stanza of "Man Was Made To Mourn," which is as follows: 

"O, death ! the poor man's dearest friend, 

The kindest and the best ! 
Welcome the liour my aged limbs 

Are laid with thee at rest ! 
The great, the wealthy, fear thy b!ow, 

From pomp and pleasure torn; 
But, oh! a blest relief to tluise. 

That weary-laden mourn !" 

Also to the following stanza from his "Lament of Mary, 
Queen of Scots, on the Approach of Spring. " 

"O ! soon to me, may summer suns 
Nae mair light up tlie morn ! 
Nae mair to me, the autumn winds 
Wave o'er the yellow corn ! • 



NOTES. 145 



And in the narrow house o' death. 

Let winter round me rave ! 
And the next llowers tliat deck the spring, 

Bloom on my peacefnl grave !" 

Note 22.— If the reader is a true lover of fine literature, and 
has not read '•'Clianiouni," or "The Morning Hymn to Mount 
Blanc," (as it is also called.) I ask him to peruse it, that he 
may also say, 

"From things of earth our thoughts are home above, 
To fit conceptions of the God of Love !" 

If you have not a copy of the writings of Coleridge, you can 
find this sublime extract in McGuffey's old Fifth Header. 



If my simple boyish compositions have failed to interest and 
entertain you, I beg pardon for imposing them upon you, for, 
as Burns says, 

" I am no poet in a sense, 
But just a rhymer, like, by chance, 
An' hae to learning nae pretense; 

Yet what tha matter ! 
When e'er my muse does on me glance, 
I jingle at her !" 

If this, my first attempt, should prove a failure in the end, 
I can then say witli the great Bard of Scotland : 

" Then fareweel hopes o' laurel boughs, 
To garland my poetic brows ; 
Henceforth I'll rove where busy ploughs 

Are whistling thrauir. 
And teach the lonely heights and bowers 

My rustic song I" 

It will 1)e readily seen by the reader that there are many poet- 
ical and a few prose quotations from various authors used in 
the csfictiis and speeches ; Byron, Burns, jMoore, Tennyson, Rich- 
ardson, 'Derzhaven,Bigney, Mrs. Proctor, and Longfellow being 
the favorites or principal ones quoted. I trust that my readers 
may see the appropriate fitness of these extracts as plainly as 
I do. 

In the poetry there are a few quotations used ; these are from 
Byron, Moore, Pope, and Dr. Jewett. That which is quoted 



from the last-named gentleman is tlie closing lines of "Tongue's 
Speech on Intemperance," and is an extract from his famous 
poem '• To Retailers," I found it in the '' Youth's Speaker,"' 
published by Beadle & Adams of New York. But enough. 

" Sons of Earth ! where'er ye dwell. 
When ye hear the solemn swell, 
Of Creation's mighty bell. 
Sounding forth Time's funeral knell, 
Ye sh?.ll meet me where I dwell ; 
Until then, Farea-ell! Farewell!^'' 



All Rcvoh\ 



J. W. Henry. 




